Some Ways It Could Happen
by Stratocruiser
Summary: Sliding into oblivion...EO
1. Chapter 1

_I don't own these characters any more than Fox owns me. _

**The Three Ways It Could Happen**

**#1.**

They were lit.

The bar was clearing out and Munch, Fin and Casey were long gone. Olivia was having a hard time sitting up straight so she propped herself against the bar.

"Do you think...this case...those little kids," Elliot said, teetering on his barstool. He'd talked about quitting that week. Three siblings were dead thanks to their mother and father, who sold them for sex acts on the internet. One of the clients just happened to be wanted in New Hampshire on murder charges. Between two long drives to New Hampshire and back and the emotional stress, both of them felt like bridges swaying under heavy trucks.

"Don't talk about the case. I can't THINK about the damn case. I just want to have a good time. We're having a good time, right?"

Elliot didn't answer. He looked a little sick.

"You know, I should quit the force. Just say the hell with it and take a job as a wilderness guide," he said, looking into his empty glass. Olivia had just put a handful of pretzels in her mouth. She started laughing and choking at the same time.

"Hey, don't want to have to do the Heimlich Manuver here," Elliot said, putting a hand on her back. "Might start rumors."

She stopped laughing and turned slowly towards him, swiveling on the barstool.

"What did you say, Elliot? Rumors?"

"I can't remember. I should call my kids."

Olivia couldn't read the numbers on her watch. A digital clock above the bar flashed 12:00...12:00...12:00...

"Don't call them now. It's midnight. We shut the place down," she said, motioning for one more round.

"Last call," the bartender reminded them.

"Yeah, yeah. Liv, how bout a toast to us. Two of New York's finest. And the hell with you for laughing at my dream of becoming a wilderness guide."

Olivia laughed again but they both managed to click their glasses together after a few trial attempts. It had been a long time since Elliot had been good and drunk. He felt safe getting tanked with Olivia, knowing that she wouldn't let him jump off a bridge or eat anything disgusting.

"Rocky Mountain oysters," he said out loud, and laughed at the sound of those words and at the memory of eating deep-fried bull balls on a dare. Olivia was face down on the bar, in a puddle of condensation and Samuel Adams. Her arms hung limply at her sides.

"Liv, we'd better go. How about that all night bakery? Want a crueller and a light?"

She moaned but was able to lift her head and slide off the stool. Elliot staggered over to the coathangers to get their jackets.

Olivia pushed him away when he tried to give her the coat she'd worn earlier.

"I'm not wearing a jacket. It's too warm. You wear it," she mumbled, thrusting it roughly back at him. He sighed and rolled his eyes. They walked out looking like they were standing on two different sides of the equator.

The clock over the bar was still flashing.

12:00...12:00...12:00...

XXXXX

Knackel's Bakery attracted the sort of people you'd expect at this ungodly hour. Drunk folks, poor folks...cops...

Elliot and Olivia snagged a booth by the window. Olivia had a trough of coffee and a gigantic eclair. Elliot had decided to just stick with his usual, just a small coffee and a crueller. He was feeling a little better. The night air had cleared his head a bit.

"Cragen's really been kicking our asses lately," he said.

"Yeah, I noticed. Well, I guess we haven't been angels."

"Nope. We've been fighting a lot with Munch, Fin, each other."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence. This was approaching territory they were afraid to walk on. There were borders around their relationship. Anything that even poked at these borders was cause for fighting or silence on both parts.

"I guess," she said, not really addressing anything but wanting to close the issue fast.

"Confusing. Things are always so confusing," he said, finishing his crueller.

'"They wouldn't be if you were a wilderness guide," Olivia said. He laughed, aware of his drunkness.

"Right. A good argument, there. You should have Casey's job."

Amazingly, Olivia has dispensed of her eclair and coffee in about ten minutes. The smell of donuts was making them both sick, so they went back out into the night. It was starting to rain.

"Neither of us can drive. You know that, right? No way," he said, running under an awning.

"Come on, my house is close," Olivia said, tugging his sleeve.

"Ten blocks!" he shouted, but she was already ahead of him. He had to sprint to catch up. They both laughed as the rain poured down on the city, soaking them.

XXXXXXXXX

They puffed into her apartment hallway, waiting as she fumbled for an eternity for a key. Both desperately had to go to the bathroom. She had only one.

Elliot had to be a gentleman and let her go first. She dawdled on purpose, laughing as he pounded on the door.

"Liv, if you don't let me go, I'm going to piss in your potted plants."

She ran out, still laughing at his predicament. When he emerged, Elliot looked very content now that his bladder had shrunk back to normal size. Both of them were soaking wet and water was beginning to puddle up on the floor. Olivia stared at the water dripping from her jeans before slowly opening the linen closet and pulling down every towel she had.

"I want to get really dry," she said, pouring water out of her shoes and into on of her pee-free potted plants.

"Your floor is getting ruined. If you'll give me a towel I can sop some of this stuff up," Elliot said, holding out his arm. Olivia grabbed a towel but instead of giving it to him, she rolled it up and snapped it at his arm.

"Don't do that. That's locker room crap."

She snapped it again, this time at his rear end.

"Liv, I'm warning you. I didn't tell you this...but Kathy and I got divorced...because she snapped me with a towel."

She snapped it at his butt again.

"That's it Benson, You're toast."

He ripped the towel from her hands and began chasing her around with it. She shrieked and jumped over furniture, knocking over books and a stack of clean clothes.

Elliot cornered her. She was laughing as he closed in, towel poised. But instead of snapping her, her wrapped it around her head and pretended to roughly dry her hair.

"So you want to get _really_ dry, huh?"

"Ow! Elliot! Come on!"

He whipped the towel off her head and tried to arrange her hair back to normal.

"Lost cause. I'm like Little Orphan Annie when it rains," she said, swaying a bit.

"Hey Liv."

He pinned her to the wall. His arms limited her movement without them actually touching her. There was two feet of space between their faces, but to her it was like an eternity.

"Liv, why have we been fighting so much?"

"Because your moods were unpredictable and when I wanted to talk to you, you ran off to Miss Shrink and I was mad," she mumbled, looking over his shoulder. "I'm sorry about what happened and I want to help."

Elliot let out a sigh. She could feel his hot breath on her face.

"And I thought you were distancing yourself from me. You didn't seem like you wanted to work with me anymore, and that hurt," he said. "So what now?"

Olivia tried to say something but it caught in her throat. Their faces were just inches apart now, and all she'd have to do is just duck under his arms to get away. His hand steadied her jaw. They were both trembling.

"I don't know," she finally said, in a careful whisper. She leaned forward a little and his lips caught hers.

The idea of time stopping is a totally unreal one. Olivia and Elliot both felt the air around them slow down, though, as they kissed that rainy night. Eight years, they'd watched each other from a distance. Eight years, Olivia had prayed he would love her someday. Eight years, Elliot had wondered...

They were both out of breath when the kiss ended. There was a lot to say to each other now. Not necessarily "I love you" but other things that they had kept hidden from each other.

Elliot rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes. She began unbuttoning his shirt.

FADE OUT


	2. Chapter 2

**#2**

_**August.**_

Who knows the capacity of the human heart?

Hers had been torn so many times. It was held together with loose threads, all the time threatening to unravel and break apart or burst. This frightened Olivia Benson. She thought about it on those long nights she spent in bed alone, re-hashing her painful memories of her hurtful mother and the father she never knew. Her heartbeat exploded like a jackhammer sometimes when ambulances would scream by. The explosions of blood and glass on the rain-soaked highway scared her. The unwanted rape...sex claimed as ownership of another person's soul...the act of tearing the skin over and over until the needle gives because the camel can't. She said her Hail Marys and Our Fathers but they didn't do a damn bit of good.

Not one damn bit. It was like the distance between love and death.

It was no small consolation that he felt it, too. Everything he'd ever created was torn violently from him. Rape sometimes isn't a sexual act. And Elliot Stabler was just as lonely as Olivia Benson, only his anger and pride kept him from owning up to it.

In the night, she'd stare out the window, wondering what he was doing, who he was thinking about. The phone was just a foot away but she never called. Instead, she dreamed of her mother screaming from heaven or hell, still full of accusations. It was Elliot who would show up sometimes, beckoning at some distant direction and smiling when she followed.

Olivia wondered if she was in love with him. It was a sensation that was very new to her. It was confusing and wonderful. Sometimes she'd see him and the pit of her stomach would drop out, like on an airplane when it hits turbulence. They weren't talking much lately, because she was scared of him in a sense. Olivia wondered if he'd break her heart, and that's something she couldn't bear to deal with.

Then there was one May morning she remembered. Elliot was eating ramen noodles with a spoon out of a styrofoam cup, his feet propped on the desk. She was buzzing around the office due to too little sleep and too much caffeine. Passing his desk, she felt a hand on her side.

"You're okay, aren't you?"

Olivia blushed a little and tried not to concentrate on the heat from his palm.

"Why would you think I'm not okay?" she asked, looking directly into his eyes.

"For starters, you're running around like the White Rabbit," he said, not moving his hand. She was feeling woozy. "And you're pretty pale."

They were the only people in the precinct. Cragen wasn't even in yet.

"I'm fine. Just having some sleep trouble lately, you know," she smiled, but it felt forced. Elliot put the cup down and stood up.

"Why don't you go home and sleep? It's all paperwork today and nothing I can't handle."

She opened her mouth, but no words came. His other hand rested on her jaw.

"You'd tell me if something was really wrong," he whispered. She shivered noticeably. They had never been this close before. Why now? Why this sudden change?

Elliot sighed a little and let her go. And that was May and this was August and they hadn't breached the subject since then. That's why she knew he was lonely. They went to a baseball game one weekend and barely spoke, except to establish who wanted what on a hot dog. Munch and Casey were there, too, chatting away about statistics and rookies and trades and contracts. They were almost oblivious to the sound of two souls crashing into each other. But on the cab drive home, Munch made a pithy observation.

"They're either going to kill each other or love each other by the end of summer."

Casey repeated it to Olivia. It rang siren bells in her head like a prophecy. Munch should work the county fairs, she thought. Standing at her window that hot August night, she realized summer was slipping through her fingers and so was Elliot Stabler.

So she got dressed and left her apartment, knowing she'd come back a drastically different person. Maybe even a happy person, but that was too much of a pipe dream to hope for now.

Across the city she knocked frantically at his door. He wasn't home. A neighbor cracked a window to complain about the noise but Olivia paid no mind. She slumped on his front steps, listening to the distant ambulances and feeling lonely as she could ever be. She put her face in her hands and tried to think of their closeness in the office. It was just too hot to concentrate.

"Liv?"

He was leaning out a car window, beckoning, as her vision swam back into focus. A light misty rain was falling...liquified humidity. It was like touching the night air.

"Liv, get in."

She ran around to the passenger side and piled in. The car interior was lit by a streetlight. Elliot was in shorts and a t-shirt. Wordlessly putting the car in drive, they pulled away and disappeared into the night air.

"What are you doing driving around?" she asked as he fiddled with the radio.

"Too damn hot to sleep. The car has better AC than my house."

He clicked the radio off.

"What are you doing out in the middle of the night?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Too damn hot to sleep," she said. This drew a grin.

They drive silently as the illuminated dash threw a green glow on their faces. In the ghastly light, Elliot looked drawn and pale.He'd lost a lot of weight worrying about his divorce. Olivia checked her watch and it was exactly midnight. Witching hour. She closed her eyes, just listening to the rythm of the road.

An hour later, they were in Alpine, New Jersey, parked at a scenic cliff overlook. The lights of the city loomed across the river.

"I come out here a lot,' Elliot said, making Olivia jump. She'd been dozing.

"It's pretty," she yawned, leaning back in the seat. "I'll bet the air's a little cooler coming off the water."

But Elliot made no motion to get out. Instead he opened his wallet and pulled out a picture. Olivia recognized his children right away. "That's a nice one. I'm amazed they would sit still to pose like that," she said.

Elliot smiled at her. He stared at the picture for a long time. "I think sometimes I'd go crazy if I didn't have them," he said, putting the picture back in his wallet. "I'm going crazy now. She may as well as just torn my heart out."

"I'm sorry, " Olivia said in a small voice. She looked at her feet for awhile before realizing he was watching her.

"You know, Kathy was always surprised you and I..."

Olivia, not sure of where this was leading, just chuckled lamely and said, "Yeah. That's a laugh." Then she lunged out of the car so fast Elliot felt the rush of air on his face before he realized she'd bolted. The air around them had turned electric and she gave into her fear again.

The breezes were cool off the water. She'd been hot in the car even with the air conditioning on. It really was gorgeous up there, with the lights from an occasional plane sparkling in the sky overhead. Below her, boats full of other people beating the heat sailed by on the Hudson. Th whole scene was so enraptuiring that she didn't hear Elliot walk up behind her. She startled when his hand touched her shoulder.

"Hey," he said.

"What are we doing up here, El?"

She was aware his hands had slipped to her sides again, so she turned to face him. Elliot's face was unreadable. The lights on the horizon reflected in his watery eyes.

"We wouldn't work...is what I told Kathy. Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler wouldn't work because we're afraid of each other."

Olivia smiled. "I'm not afraid of you."

"You are. And I'm scared of hurting you. I don't ever want to do that and I know I have in the past."

She listened to the wind stirring the tops of the trees. Elliot's hands were now moving up and down her sides, in a gesture she interpreted as supplication.

"It would be very easy for you to break my heart. That's what I'm scared of," she whispered in voice that sounded no different from the insistent breeze. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling better now that it was off her chest.

"I couldn't promise that I wouldn't," he said, wrapping his arms completely around her. Their lips touched lightly. They pulled back, each trying to gauge the expression on the other's face. She kissed him and the lights moved from his eyes to hers.

Every ending has a beginning.

It was the end of August, and Munch had been right.

FADE OUT


	3. Chapter 3

**#3**

"Screw you."

"Yeah? Screw you, too."

She threw a twenty dollar bill down on the table and stalked out of the restaurant. Elliot was left in her angry wake. He didn't see which direction Olivia was headed, it was just away from him.

"Goddam you," he muttered. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. Another woman had torn his heart out and stomped on it. But this time it was different.

It was Olivia.

XXXX

Elliot knew he'd betrayed Olivia's trust by not opening up about his divorce. It's not like he was obligated to tell her, it was just that she'd get all upset and want to talk about it. That's what he couldn't deal with. So nothing was said, and there'd been no big blowups between them, just angry silence. Until now.

The walk to the precinct was a long one and he dawdled, not wanting to catch up to her. Snow swirled in the air and gusts of wind buffetted his back. It had been a long December for everyone. What was it, just days ago, he'd shared a cup of hot chocolate with her on a long and terrible stakeout. No perp, no nothing. The car windows were steaming up and she laughed long and loud as he wiped them down, making reference to making out. Taking the cup from her hands, Elliot noticed how lovely she was that day. No makeup, no jewelry, just that smile he didn't see very often anymore.

Maybe that was their swan song. The light at the end of the tunnel. Now she wanted out of their partnership and out of SVU. And to rub salt in the wound, he had to hear about it from Cragen, who was clearly not happy about Olivia's decision. So he feigned dumb and asked her to lunch. And maybe he tried a little too hard to find out what had gone wrong.

_"Is it something I did? Liv, we've known each other for almost a decade and I would have hoped you'd open up to me," he said, looking her directly in the eye._

_"Oh, like you were so open about your divorce?"_

_Elliot dropped his napkin on the table and sighed. "I'm not going to get in a pissing contest with you because you'd win," he said, never dropping eye contact. Her eyes darted nervously around the restaurant. "We're a team. They can't beat us."_

_"Were a team, Elliot. You've been complaining about me to Munch and Casey. God, I feel like I don't even know you anymore. Since Kathy left, you've been the angriest son of a bitch on the block and everytime I think I get close to you, you pull away."_

_His eyes opened wide. That would have been his next argument. _

Elliot's train of thought broke. He was standing in a crosswalk, and the cars were honking. An old man puttered by in an old Pontiac. He reminded Elliot of his own grandfather, a doctor from Missouri who served in Korea as a Colonel well into his fifties. A sharp pinprick of light behind his eyes brought the feeling of loss back again. He loved his grandfather dearly. It was the healthiest relationship he'd ever had. Even his time with Kathy couldn't match those days on the farm, watching the horses run or riding the tractor or trying on old Army fatigues. Why the hell does everything have to be so complicated? Why the hell does love have to be so complicated?

_"You love this too much to just chuck it all! Why? Why now?"_

_"You know damn well why. I need a change, I need to concentrate on real life and real relationships,' she said, making no effort to lower her voice._

_"This is a real relationship. You know how Fin calls you my second wife? And how I never disagree with that? I love you and would never want to see you - "_

_Elliot stopped. A twinge of fear shot up his spine. He'd laid it out on the table now, unintentionally, and it was up to her to call his bluff._

_"Screw you."_

Olivia knew he'd never use a word like "love" lightly. Between them it was the only word that fit now. You love friends and you love your wife and you love your partner. He didn't love her like a friend or a partner. But he'd settle for that now. Even if she just loved him like you love a certain type of ice cream.

Elliot was certain she loved him. He could see it in her eyes that day on the stakeout. Everytime they touched there was an electricity. Munch mentioned that once, when he thought Elliot was out of earshot.

"Uh, they're both in there and the current's really flowing today."

It was amazing that he'd be the one to say it first. Who would have believed she would be the proud one, scared to bare her heart to the man who alternately infuriated and protected her day in and day out? His resolve had crumbled day to day and all his feelings of anger and guilt laid his heart wide open. She'd seen him beating his locker and didn't say anything. Maybe she would have if the feeling was mutual.

Elliot was at the precinct now. He breezed in with the snow and was intercepted by Huang and Casey.

"God, we just heard. I'm sorry, Elliot, that she didn't tell you. If I would have seen it coming I'd have tipped you off," said Casey, resting her hand on his arm.

"If you need to talk...you know where I am. Casey and I were going to get some coffee if you want to come along," Huang offered.

Elliot shook his head. "You haven't seen her, have you?" he asked, a fake smile cracking his face in half.

"She came in about ten minutes ago. I imagine she'd either be in the crib or on the roof," Huang smiled back, but his eyes were full of concern. Casey noticed this and let go of Elliot's arm.

"Thanks," Elliot said tersely. He walked away quickly, leaving Casey shaking her head.

"What a mess."

Elliot sprinted to the roof and quietly opened the door. He could see Olivia's back. She was leaning on her elbows, looking out at the city lights. The snow was still falling and she was without a jacket, shivering slightly. Elliot walked up beside her.

"You left me hanging there, Liv," he said quietly, but she still jumped at the sound of his voice. Olivia turned to look at him, but quickly gave the city her full attention again. "Bet you never thought I'd say it."

"I wish I hadn't heard you say it," she said, remaining expressionless.

"What do you mean?"

"Because it's always been a lie. My mother would say it after she hit me. Boyfriends say it to get you to bed. It's just junk talk to me and there's too much hurt attached to it."

Elliot thought about his grandfather letting him drive the tractor. The sun rose and set on that man. Elliot loved him as much as he loved Olivia.

"You ran away because you know I meant it," he said, not looking at her. "It scares me, too. Maybe it shouldn't matter if you don't love me back."

"Who says I don't?"

She turned to lock eyes with him. It was such an unexpected response, Elliot was speechless for a moment. They just stood there in silence, waiting for the other to speak up.

"Is that why you're leaving?" he finally choked out.

Olivia touched his arm. He felt an instant pang of pity for her, like you would finding an abandoned kitten in a storm drain. She was so lost underneath that tough exterior.

"Yes," was all she said, in sort of an exhale.

He embraced her and began to cry out of confusion and stress and all that had come to light on that rooftop. Olivia reached up and pulled his head down to hers.

"I don't know what to do," she whispered into his ear. Elliot could feel the dampness of her cheek. She was crying, too.

"I don't know either,' he said. Her lips brushed his cheek. He tightened his arms around her and they both looked up into the sky. Then, as if on cue, their lips met and they kissed for the first time on the rooftop in the falling snow. Every bit of anger, passion and love they had for each other boiled down to this kiss.

When they broke apart, Elliot smiled. She was still in his arms, blushing furiously.

"Are we still partners?" he asked.

Olivia smiled back and lightly punched him on the arm.

FADE OUT

XXXXXXX

Author's Note: Which one did you like best? I wrote the first one in about thirty minutes. This last one was the hardest to hammer out. That's because the characters are so distant now it's getting harder and harder to imagine them together.


	4. Chapter 4

_After all the loves of my life..._

_I'll be thinking of you_

_and wondering_

_why._

In the end he took her by force.

She drove two hours in the dark autumn rain to see him. It was like a puzzle. He'd drop little hints about this eventual day, but he probably never guessed that she would be the one person left in his life.

The neon reflected off the car's wet windshield. Olivia was driving fast and praying the car wouldn't lose its traction. She was technically on the run now, too. The leather coat she had on barely kept out the chill. Her teeth chattered as the wipers groaned. Finally, a smeary purple blur was directly in front of her: Wildwood Motel.

The old man in the lobby was busy eating Cheetos and wiping his hands on his white t-shirt. He didn't bother to look at her, but knew from her breathless tone she was probably chasing after the agitated ape in room 104. She splashed toward the back of the hotel, the rain beating down in its merciless way. Olivia prayed she wouldn't be too late and said a prayer for herself that she'd stay intact and not fly apart at the sight of him.

She knocked. He opened the door a crack and eyed her soaked body. "Why are you here?" he hissed. Olivia felt her heart jump into her throat.

"El, I was right there when it happened. Cragen had no right to treat you like - ."

The door shut. She stared at the sky, feeling for the first time he might be beyond help. But the chain rattled and the door swung open. The room was dark, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust.

"You shouldn't be here," Elliot said from somewhere in the gloom. He had to be close, because she could smell him, and feel the heat rolling off his body. Olivia squinted and could barely make out his outline standing by the window. "I quit. We're not partners anymore. You don't have to protect me anymore and I don't have to protect you. Because I can't. I can't change the damned world everyday and I've lost so much in my life."

There was a long pause. Olivia was about to say something, but he moved closer. "So just leave and go on with your life," he said, in a tone she'd never heard before.

"It wasn't...my life was never in danger. And you didn't do anything I wouldn't have done. We've split up on stakeout before and I just was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn't your fault," she said, hoping to calm herself down, but she knew there was stark terror in her voice.

She'd been injured and Cragen placed the blame squarely on Elliot. And then he flipped. Punched out a window. Turned over Cragen's desk. Fin had to drag Elliot out of the office. The last thing Elliot said as he was being escorted out was a loud "I QUIT".

Olivia had been at her desk and ran for him, but Munch held her back.

"Let him go. For God's sake," Munch pleaded, holding her arm. Oh, Munch knew about the two of them alright. He knew about what existed in the silence between their work talk.

Elliot jolted her back to reality. "I said I'm not going back. I mean it. I'll take the kids and move to Florida and I'll work at Target or something."

"Kathy's not going to let you..."

"Fuck Kathy and fuck you! I don't need your pity, Olivia Benson," he shouted, and grabbed her roughly by the arms. The rain reflected from a streetlight to his face in hideous ripples.

"Let go of me," she said.

"Not until you promise to leave."

Olivia gulped. "No. I'm going to stay here with you for a few minutes," she said calmly, and felt his grip tighten. "And if you hurt me Elliot, I'll kick your balls through your brains."

His grip relaxed a bit. She felt his breath on her forehead for a moment, then he grunted and pushed her aside. "I don't need your goodamned pity," he said. Olivia heard the bedsprings creak as he sat down. All she could do was stand there and shiver, waiting for some sort of absolution.

"I'm not asking you to come back. I wanted to make sure you were safe," she said slowly, and winced as he slammed his fist on the bed. "That you didn't hurt yourself."

That's when he charged her. Olivia had very little time to react, but put her police training to good use. His body hit her shoulder, and they both sort of bounced off each other. Elliot landed on the bed and Olivia was thrown against the wall.

"The hell with you," she said. So it was over. The relationship that had outlasted almost all others in her life, over and done with in five minutes in a New Jersey motel room. Olivia had her hand on the doorknob when she felt a hand on her waist.

"Liv," was all he said. She turned around in surprise and his arms wrapped around her. His lips fell on hers in a dizzying crush. He was forceful, pushing her against the door. But she didn't have the energy to fight back. When he turned his attention to her neck, she moaned and dug her fingers into his back, squeezing roughly. He was so warm. He'd always been her bedrock.

"I love you," he said, into the cup of her ear. Elliot's hands kneaded her breasts roughtly.

"I know," she whispered back. They made their way to the bed and made love as the rain beat on the windows and the neon flashed through the curtains.

It would be so easy to hate him. Loving him was a tough decision. But that night, as their sweaty bodies tangled in the sheets, she knew it was love, and it had always been.


	5. Random Moment

_A/N: Okay. This story doesn't lead up to sex. But it's a way something happened. Olivia realizes something important that changes her life, for both good AND bad. This is very obviously set post-"Fault". _

**A Random Moment of Significant Importance**

It didn't hit her until that night. Olivia made it through three "Full House" reruns and the evening news without moving off the couch. Her brain had kicked into an autopilot mode, leaving her emotionless and unresponsive to the uproarious laugh tracks.

The whole situation hit her like a freight train as she was leaning over the bathroom sink. Her eyes were sunken in dark bags, her skin was pale and clammy. Nothing seemed real until she touched the stab wound on her neck. Then she just crumpled like a rag doll, beating her fists on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, saying his name over and over. Goddammit, he loved her. She knew this now, but it was no comfort. Elliot's words played over and over in her head:

_"The only things I have left in this world are the job and you, and I don't want to risk losing both of them."_

If he had died, if the shot would have been possible, would she have made it? Or would she have stepped in front of the bullet that was meant for her?

He said, in effect, that he loved her. There was no way she could love him back if he was going to put the job first.

It would be a relief to feel the bullet in her temple and just float off into the clear, blue sky. Instead, Olivia was knotted up on a bath mat and crying like her heart would break. They couldn't be partners anymore. She couldn't watch him die. All the ugly nightmares she had about holding him as the blood pooled around them - there was always a fantastic amount of blood, like a sea - and Elliot dying without an I love you or a fuck you. His strong body would go weak and he'd just disappear, leaving her old and alone.

Olivia knew she had to get to bed. Cragen had given her the next day off. She'd actually asked for it, because she couldn't bear to see Elliot's reaction when he heard the news. It was a struggle to crawl to the bed, but somehow she managed with a policewoman's grit and determination. Somewhere, Elliot was probably crying (or drinking), maybe breaking windows or just staring at the TV as she had earlier that evening.

Olivia wanted to be with him. But she couldn't. Not tonight. Her heart was broken.

As the sobs began to subside, she closed her eyes, trying to will sleep to come but dreading who would be on the other end of the phone line tomorrow. She prayed she wouldn't dream of death or blood. The feel of a too-heavy pistol and the smell of moldy cardboard boxes...the tears in his eyes...everything they weren't saying...

Instead, she dreamed of the day she knew things were changing.

**April 2002**

The rented Buick stank of vomit and Lysol. The witness interview in Bath had gone OK, but Elliot was sweating bullets in the cool upstate air. A stomach virus had been going around the 1-6, with Elliot falling as its latest victim. By the time they were five miles into their trip back, he had thrown up three times and ruined two sets of clothes. Olivia was the unhappy recipient of one of those cookie-tossing episodes and was now wearing a sweatshirt he'd worn on the way up. Kathy wasn't going to love the aftermath...their soiled clothes were now in a black garbage bag stinking up the trunk.

"Do we have any water?" Elliot moaned. They were out, so Olivia gave him the rest of her last bottle.

"You need Gatorade," she said, reaching over to feel his forehead. He scowled at her touch and turned to look out the window. "That'll help restore all the electrolytes you lost."

He didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned his forehead on the cool window and watched the scenery whip by. He looked so pitiful it was almost comical.

Elmira was the next town of size, so Olivia took the first exit ramp and prayed there'd be a grocery store somewhere. Her intention was to buy some Gatorade, an air freshner and some Dramamine so she could drive in peace and Elliot could get some much-needed sleep. She didn't have much of an appetite.

A small IGA was about 100 feet off the highway. She pulled in and Elliot didn't even have the strength to lift his head from the window. "Don't take long," he cautioned as she opened the door.

Olivia was about halfway to the store when she turned to look back at the car. He'd reclined the seat and all she could see were his feet on the dashboard. The shirt she'd borrowed carried the scent of his cologne. Sometimes, when he'd stop by, her apartment would smell like him for hours afterward. She liked it. On September 11, they hugged for the first time...maybe a little longer than a married man and a single woman should. It just felt so safe in his arms as the endless tragedy erupted all around them.

A car honked and startled her out of the daydream.

In the store, shoppers moved up and down the cramped aisles like zombies. Trying to keep her promise to Elliot, Olivia practically sprinted from section to section. Of course, during the busy time of day, only one checker was on duty. She sighed and picked up a magazine in hopes the line would thin out.

A hand fell on her shoulder. She thought it was Elliot, but when Olivia turned around, she was staring into the eyes of a dark haired woman carrying a six-pack of Budweiser. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you...but it looks like our friends know each other," the woman said, giving her a shaky smile. Olivia squinted beyond the front counters into the parking lot to see Elliot propped up against the car like a rag doll, talking to a guy with roughly chiseled features.

"I'm Olivia," she said, extending a hand.

"I'm Monica," the woman said, giving Olivia the standard-issue government handshake...pump, pump, drop. "Let me guess. You guys are NYPD."

Olivia nodded mutely.

"That was John's old job before he signed up with the FBI," Monica continued.

"Elliot's been on the force longer than I have. He doesn't talk much about the people he worked with."

Monica was wearing a t-shirt. Bruises ran up and down her pale arms and a deep abrasion marked her temple. Olivia noticed the younger woman seemed shaky and skinny. "Are you doing okay?" Olivia asked.

"I had a car accident a few weeks ago and we've been all over the state tracking down a case that didn't turn out to be much at all. John and I are just tired out. They called about an hour ago and now we're going to Los Angeles."

They were walking and talking now. Olivia found the Dramamine improbably in the greeting card section. She also got a better look at Monica's partner. He was an intense looking guy, even more so than Elliot.

"Your partner's a good looking guy," said Monica.

"He's married," Olivia said quickly.

"I imagined. A good man is hard to find. Or so they say."

Monica snagged a bag of Cheetos. "What do you two do for the FBI?" Olivia ventured.

"It's hard to tell people and have them understand. Most people think it's hogwash."

Olivia smiled at her. She'd trade sex crimes for hogwash sometimes. They reached the checkout line and Monica gazed out the window at John. Her features, which seemed angular and harsh under the flourescent light, seemed to relax as she watched him talk with Elliot. Something dawned on Olivia. It was a look of geniune love she was seeing, the kind of love that changes people and alters their perception of the universe. It was something she'd really never seen before in its purest form.

"He's all I have in the world," Monica said, more to herself than anyone else. Olivia watched Elliot and thought of her own feelings. He changed her, he was the only person she looked forward to seeing, when he hurt, she hurt. Elliot was married to Kathy but in Olivia's heart, somewhere deep down, something felt like it was about to erupt when they were together.

"Are you two..."

"No," said Monica quickly. "I don't think he knows. But I know."

There was something so sad about that. The dark circles under Monica's eyes belied her strong sense of self. This was a weary woman.

They walked into the bright sunshine together. Elliot gave Olivia a half-hearted wave, but John smiled wide at Monica. Oh, God, he loves her too. Why can't they tell each other?

"I see you two met already," John said. His eyes twinkled. "Elliot, this is my partner, Monica Reyes."

Olivia shook John's hand and looked expectantly at Elliot. "We were in training together. This guy could drink more than anyone I've ever seen," Elliot said in thin, sickly voice.

"Hey, how's John Munch? That bastard's a good friend of one of our co-workers," John laughed.

"Small world, huh? John, we've got a plane to catch in DC tomorrow. We need to get going," Monica said, eyeing Elliot out of the corner of her eye.

John and Elliot shook hands and exchanged cards. Olivia went around to get one of her cards for Monica. But as she was handing it to her, their eyes locked. It was as if Olivia could see herself in Monica's face, maybe years down the road. She saw the quiet despair, the constant struggle to keep her head above water. The feelings hit her like a bucket of cold water, making her gasp and shiver in the warm air.

_That'll be you. You'll be tired out, burnt out.._

Elliot gladly accepted a bottle of Gatorade. Olivia pretended to fiddle with the cap on her soda, but all the while she was watching Monica and John. They seemed so much older, yet they weren't. The two were talking quietly to each other. John smoothed a dark strand of hair from Monica's pale forehead.

And Olivia realized something both frightening and wonderful. She was falling in love with Elliot. It was a hard fall. But they had all the time in the world that year. Olivia could deal with him being married for now. She'd dealt relatively successfully with all the darker turns in her life. It was just another thing to put on the backburner.

"Hey, thanks for taking care of me. I'm sorry I puked all over you back there," Elliot said, touching her elbow softly.

Olivia could hear her own heart beat.

She started the car and headed back towards New York.


	6. Moon and New York City

**The Moon and New York City**

"Are you ever going to talk to her?"

Casey's brow wrinkled as Elliot took another sip. This was the reason he didn't socialize around the 1-6 much anymore; too many interrogations. Munch and Fin looked down the bar expectantly, waiting to hear what he'd say.

"I do talk to her. We spoke on the phone last week," Elliot said, hoping to drop the subject. "She's fine."

"Yeah, we know that," Casey smiled. The top button on her blouse had come undone. Her eyes took on a smoky quality when she was drunk, something many men would find attractive. Elliot didn't think it made her more of anything. She was just Casey, like a little sister to Olivia, a wet dream for Munch and the woman who reminded Cragen so much of his long dead wife. "We've all talked to Olivia."

"Yeah. She and Fin are going shopping Monday," Munch snorted. Fin just rolled his eyes.

"You know...," Casey said, stumbling to her feet. "You know you love her. Goddamn you. Treating her like that."

Fin was trying to shove Casey's arms into her coat quickly, seeing the potential for a nasty war of words. "I'll get you a cab, Casey. Come on, let's go, babe," he said, trying to placate her. Casey's face was fire engine red.

"Goddamn you. She was right. You're nothing but a goddamn stubborn son of a bitch," Casey said loudly as Fin practically pushed her out the door. Elliot just sighed and stared into his drink. Munch moved to the next stool.

"Don't say a word," Elliot said. Munch shrugged and ran his finger across the wet circles the glasses and bottles left on the bar. "I don't know that I love her."

"I think you do," said Munch. "I think you love her more than you'd ever admit to. Since you seem to have no human emotions..."

"Shut up."

"Hear me out. You pushed her away when Kathy left. She needed you sometimes and you just left her waiting. I never saw her do that to you. Elliot, you both need each other."

Elliot pushed back from the bar. "Why should I take advice from a guy that's been divorced four times?"

"Because I don't want to see Olivia get hurt again. If you do hurt her, I will personally make your life hell," Munch said, crushing a pretzel under his fist. Elliot stared at the pretzel and then at Munch.

"Well, I'd better get going. No rest for the wicked, right?" Munch laughed hollowly, throwing down a ten dollar bill. "Think about what I said. Old guy to young guy, you know?"

Elliot just lamely shook his head and stared back down at the bar. The doodles Munch had been making the condensation were fading, but he could make out the word "Mulder".

"Who's Mulder?" he shouted Munch's retreating back. There was no answer given. The jukebox switched, leaving Elliot suddenly feeling very alone and listening to "Dead Flowers" by the Rolling Stones. His head hurt.

XXXXXX

The night air hit him like a stiff gin and tonic. Moonlight filtered down between the buildings giving the city a ghostly, gray quality. There were pink neon signs throwing the horizon into dusk.

Elliot could get drunk on the city itself. It was home, it would always be home. Even during the blackouts, the attacks, the heatwaves...he could always count on the city to welcome him with open arms. The horrible underbelly of the city bothered him. That undercurrent of loss, desolation and loneliness. He worked hard to protect people from it.

And Olivia was the city. She made up everything he loved and hated about the place. In his thoughts late at night, he's dream of having a small house in the country. Somewhere quiet, where the world wouldn't come knocking. Sometimes Olivia would be there, her hair long (hey, it was his dream) and her smile wide, leaning in a doorway looking perfectly content.

Elliot stopped. He was across the street from her apartment. There was a light on. Feeling a little faint (and maybe scared), he sat on a stoop and just looked up at that window. He then stared at the full moon and prayed for guidance. The moon witnesses everything the sun forgets. He'd heard that somewhere, maybe from Munch. It had been there for his first kiss so many years ago at Coney Island. The air had smelled like french fries and "California Soul" was playing on a boardwalk PA. Her name was Bridget.

Sirens blasted by.

"I'm broken," he said to no one.

Yes, he loved her. It had come screaming from every pore when he was in Huang's office that terrible afternoon. They all knew. Casey's burst of anger was unexpected but not surprising. Even Kathy knew. It had been obvious.

Now there was blood of a nine year old on his hands. _On their hands_. All because Elliot cared too much about her. After all the time Kathy accused him of not caring about anything but his job, he'd finally proved her wrong. Loving Olivia went against ever fiber of his being. The job would suffer, what would the kids think? When and if his love was laid out on the table, what would happen next?

Elliot thought Olivia loved him. It was in her eyes. To think of how hurt and haunted they were that day in the warehouse nearly tore him in half. He wanted to tell her not to lose sleep if he died. Have babies, fall in love, give her life to God or something but just get away from that dark side. She deserved better. Olivia didn't deserve Elliot Stabler, a broken man who was in the process of losing everything in life.

He was crying. Tears leaked through his fingertips like blood from an open wound. Part of him was screaming to go up and talk to her. The other part was frightened, so scared of what she'd say.

"Elliot?"

The familiar voice startled him. He looked up, wiping the tears from his eyes. It was Olivia, sad eyed and upset. She'd never seen him cry like this. It had been a few weeks since they'd seen each other, and he was startled by her appearance. Olivia had lost some weight and looked a little bony and jaundiced in the yellow moonlight.

Their sleeves brushed as she sat down. Her hand went to his back and rubbed in small, hesitant circles. "Is everything alright? The kids are okay?" she asked in a choked voice. Elliot just shook his head and covered his eyes again.

He didn't look at her for another couple of minutes. When he did wipe the tears out his eyes, Elliot found her staring at the full moon. She looked pale and sick.

"Liv, are you okay?" he asked.

"I haven't slept much. I was actually on my way to the store for some sleeping pills."

"Yeah."

Another ambulance blasted by, making both of them wince. "I shouldn't be keeping you up, then," Elliot said suddenly, standing up.

"No, I was up anyways. Why don't you come up and sit with me for awhile?"

He followed her across the street and up the stairs. Her apartment was strewn with clothes, like his. the sink was bursting with dirty dishes and the TV was on.

They just sat on the couch, side by side, and stared into space. Elliot reached over to brush a few strands of hair that had fallen into her eyes. Before he could pull his hand away, she grabbed his wrist.

"Elliot, these few weeks have made me realize something," she said quietly. "I know now that I still wouldn't have pulled that trigger. Maybe we shouldn't be partners..."

He looked in her eyes.

"...but we should be friends. I don't want you not to be in my life."

Elliot pulled her into his arms.

"You are my life, Olivia," he said into her ear. "If I have to choose, it's you."

Her breath caught.

Olivia pulled away momentarily and a shadow crossed her face. It was raw fear, the same fear you always get when something new happens and you don't know if the outcome will be wonderful or if it will kill you in the end.

Elliot pulled her down on top of him and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," he chanted, rocking the two of them back and forth.

She rested her head on his chest. He turned the television off and they just laid in the light filtering through the blinds. Olivia fell asleep that way, but Elliot watched her long into the night, under the moon that kept its patient watch from the heavens.


	7. Cars Hiss By My Window

**CARS HISS BY MY WINDOW**

**RATED T**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything here you recognize. **

The rainy streets smeared under her veil of tears. There was no way she'd ever go back to the precinct. He would be there, full of questions.

Olivia had no answers.

Night after night, she tossed and turned thinking about him, thinking about them. Elliot's words came like daggers.

_"You asked Cragen for..."_

Olivia pressed her hand to the window. She then let her forehead touch the glass, thinking its coolness would ease the knot forming around her brain. What was that poem?

_After a great pain, a formal feeling comes..._

She'd never really liked Emily Dickinson, but the next line was the clincher.

_The nerves sit ceremonious, like tombs._

The dark apartment was her tomb. There was nothing here connecting her to any past or future. It contained jumbles of Pier One cast-offs and photos of her co-workers. Olivia kept a photo of Elliot beside her bed. He didn't know this. Something about having it there made things feel safe, somehow. Usually she could see it from her window seat, especially when it would catch the light from the passing cars. It was in a drawer now, tossed in among the socks and the underwear.

Olivia closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she got out of the chair and pulled her big suitcase out of the closet.

_"You asked Cragen for a new partner? Fuck you! Fuck you! I gave you everything I had."_

As she packed, Olivia could see his face red with fury. She could feel his spit settling on her nose and hear the door slam as Elliot stormed out. The whoosh of air felt cold against her skin. It felt like the end. It was totality.

It was time to go. Time to make a choice.

The streets were wet and steam was rising from the manholes. Elliot's house was almost dark, save for a soft light in the living room. She sat in front of it and gathered courage for the encounter.

A quiet knock didn't awake him so Olivia pounded hard, knocking little chips of paint off the door. Elliot appeared, looking tired, unshaved and maybe a little sad. They stared for a moment. He was in a purple t-shirt and pajama pants.

Elliot walked away, but left the door open. She took it as a cue and wandered in. The television flickered, its image bouncing off three empty beer bottles lined up solider-perfect on the coffee table. Elliot was in a wing chair. He didn't acknowledge when Olivia sat down on the couch.

They sat in perfect silence for almost an entire History Channel show about Gettysburg. When it was over, Elliot got up and disappeared into the dark kitchen. Bottles clinked and the unmistakeable sound of tops popping echoed through the structure. He shuffled back into the living room and silently handed Olivia a bottle. She took it, their fingertips brushing. Each recoiled at the slight contact. He sat back down and absently flipped through the channels.

"Leaving?"

She startled at his voice. "Yes," Olivia said softly. "I might go to Massachusetts or something for a week."

"Oh."

It was beginning to get hot in the small room. Elliot settled on a show and drained the rest of his beer. He probably expected her to say something about the drinking. OIivia didn't have the energy. It was nerve-wracking, waiting to say goodbye...or waiting for an absolution?

Her eyelids began to droop because the beer was kicking in.

"Did you come here to say goodbye?" he asked, shifting in the chair.

Olivia looked at her hands. "Yes...maybe."

"Guess I'll get my new partner Monday."

She didn't say anything. Sleep suddenly sounded so good. The past week had been exhausting and horrible. It couldn't get any stranger...but then it did.

Elliot choked out a sob. Her head snapped away from the TV and witnessed the man finally breaking down.

"I don't want a new partner," he managed to choke out. Olivia was stunned into an open-mouthed gape. He was rocking back and forth, slamming his fists into the arms of the chair.

It felt like slow motion, but she managed to unroot herself from the couch and approach him. Would he push her away? She boldly sat on his lap and pulled him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear, over and over.

"I know," was all Olivia could say. Elliot held her tightly, his tears soaking her right shoulderThey stayed that was for almost a half-hour. Her exhaustion reached its peak. It took every ounce of strength to keep her head up.

Elliot noticed this and put his strong hands around her waist. He eased out of the chair and eased Olivia into his arms. He clicked the TV and carried her to the dark master bedroom, laying her limp form onto the bed. Elliot climbed in beside her, pulling her close.

"You don't know how much I..."

His whisper broke off. Olivia snuggled close to his body. Elliot laid there for awhile, just basking in the heat she created. Before long, they were both asleep.

There was no absolution that night. But there was hope, a tiny spark that had almost died between them. It burned brightly as they laid together. There were no perfect summer lawns or lazy weekends sipping lemonade in their future, but for now the sound of their breathing together and the cars hissing by the bedroom window would suffice.


	8. Looking Back In Anger

**Looking Back In Anger**

_**for Mike**_

Funny how the day had swung in twelve different directions. It was like a weathervane in a storm, twisting around as the wind changed course.

One moment you're alone. The next minute you're in love. The spark had always been there but they'd both been so scared. Olivia knew it would emerge one day. It came so unexpectedly it was like being blindsided. She thought her feelings would never be returned, but as he began talking in that hospital corridor, the realization was like a cold shower.

Elliot had loved her all this time. It rankled her his feelings had to come out this way. A child dead, another hurt, a man without a face lying dead at their feet, the scratchy bandage on her neck. Why wasn't this sentiment muttered in the throes of passion? What about a rooftop, with the moon shining down?

"Everything happens for a reason. Even Elliot and Olivia happened for a reason," Casey said earlier in the day. Olivia had been hopping mad, stomping around the DA's office sloshing her coffee. "I heard he went to talk to Huang about thirty minutes ago."

Things were off in the universe. This admission made things tilt a little more.

His eyes. Olivia's eyes fell on a picture of him perched on her bedside table. They didn't look like a couple in it. Elliot was uncomfortable in his tux and she looked constipated, thanks to a pair of too-tight high heels. For all the world, they could be the world's oldest prom dates. It was the Christmas party two years ago. Elliot was there with Kathy. Olivia came with Munch as a mercy date. She danced with Elliot twice and would swear he held her closer than Kathy. Maybe she should have known then things were going to change.

Olivia stared at her ceiling. The fan whirred away above her. Tears filled her eyes until the numbers on the digital clock melted in a red blur. Damn him. She could have been stabbed lower and had her heart torn out. This couldn't hurt her more than his actions that afternoon. He left her sitting on a bench in that corridor alone with a raw nerve exposed. It took every ounce of strength Olivia had to go home, shower, change and go back to the precinct. Cragen was startled by her request. He gave no lecture, just sighed as she walked out the door.

Casey wasn't answering her cellphone, meaning she was out barhopping with Munch that night. They were a strange twosome. But they got along and neither had to change their personality for the other. Olivia felt like a third wheel when they all went drinking. A few years ago, Elliot would have been there with them. Now he spent many of his nights watching cable and drinking at home.

Things just kept spinning out of Olivia's control. It couldn't get any worse. Her back ached and her head was pounding. Her throat felt like a thousand upended razors.

He showed up at her door that night. Head bowed, colorless. Elliot just walked in and sat silently on the couch as the television flickered away. Olivia watched the tears begin to fall but offered no comfort. He made no effort to wipe them away.

Two hours passed. Her eyelids were growing heavy. Some of the anger was melting away, but not all. She got up to go into the kitchen and didn't hear him follow. Olivia just turned around and there he was.

"I talked to Cragen," he said, his eyes piercing and cutting hers apart.

She just nodded, trying to break eye contact.

"We could work this out," he offered.

"What? And be friends?" she laughed bitterly. "You pulled my heart out and stomped on it back there. I don't know if I need you in my life anymore."

His face fell. OIivia took her glass of orange juice and walked back into the living room to watch the news. The top story was about them. Looking at the video of the crime scene...the father...their haunted faces...

She snapped off the television. Elliot was still in the kitchen. There was an urge to cry. He walked in softly and grabbed his coat.

Remembering the man that ran for her as she lay bleeding on the terminal floor, remembering his comforting touch at her mother's funeral...

All the times they drank out of the same glass...

He opened the door and a crack of light fell through the apartment. Olivia was just going to let the bastard walk away. They weren't partners anymore. The bruised soul they shared would disappear.

"Wait."

That was hours ago. A siren went by, making her head hurt worse. The Advil was in the bathroom near her gun. Both would stop the pain, one faster than the other.

She stumbled in and contemplated the gun for a moment. The pills went down easy but made the water bitter. Olivia put the gun into the holster that was slung over the chair. Her reflection was harsh. Dark circles puffed below her eyes. The folds of the pillowcase left lines on her cheeks and her neck was bandaged and covered with more bruises than she'd gone to bed with. She snapped out the light, sobered by the reality of her appearance.

Sliding into bed by the moonlight, the movement stirred him slightly. "Something wrong?" he asked in a sleepy cadence. Olivia kissed his collarbone as he pulled her back into his arms.

Tomorrow things would be different. They didn't say "I love you" that night but they came pretty damn close. And tomorrow things would change, but Olivia was ready to face them.

She fell asleep.


	9. Dark and Strange Like Dying

**Dark and Strange Like Dying**

_His lips are so warm._

She is powerless as their breathing quickens. The room is full of explosive air, shattering cracks and ruptures as they embrace. Elliot is shaking but Olivia isn't. This is what they both need, she tells herself. It feels right. It feels...

_...like I could die. Why does he do these things to me? I tried not to love him all these years._

It was true. Olivia squashed the feeling into her subconsious. Sometimes it would bubble up in odd ways and the urge to reach out and touch him became too great. The self-denial took its toll in every lonely Saturday night spent watching old movies.

This is a Sunday.

She wants him so badly. She doesn't just want a kiss. It has to be something more this time. No raw confessionals in the hospital anymore. Just skin on skin, body on body. They're getting there. Elliot's tears drip into her mouth. She's crying too. Nothing's ever come simply in her short life. Especially him.

He begins to kiss his way down her neck. Their arms untangle and she unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up. There's something savage about it, this new thing. Elliot's not being gentle with his teeth against the gooseflesh that's suddenly enveloping Olivia's body. She runs her hands across his chest. They're both stepping closer to the couch at the same time.

Two stubborn creatures in a partnership built on sand. He viewed it as betrayal, she saw it as survival, getting away from the brick that had been sinking her these last few years. Anger practically bled from his pores. His eyes had turned dark and strange like dying, heavy-lidded black shrouds.

_It's never been like this._

Elliot's hands roughly clasp her breasts and she pulls him down on the couch, fumbling frantically with his belt. He grabs her wrists, stopping the movement of her hands. Olivia looks up only to see a ghost of a smile on his face.

"We can go slow," he purrs. Her eyes go blank and the only thing left to do is nod. They just lay there for a few minutes. Elliot strokes her hair lazily, humming a song to himself.

"I didn't want to be mad at you," Olivia says, breaking their silence. "There was just no other way."

His breath hitches; she can hear it because her head's against his chest. Elliot will not apologize. He never does. But the feel of his skin makes up for the hurtful words and the tears and the angry stares and the office gossip. "I...I didn't want to hurt you," he stammers.

There are ten faint bruise marks on her upper arms. They'll be bright purple by morning. So they had a fight. So he grabbed her a little harder than he should. Olivia responded with a face searing slap, leaving her own imprint on his cheek.

_Who's the real problem here, partner? We can't fight all the time. I'll stop winning._

He was on the way out when there was one last look. Their eyes locked. Everything was so sad and desperate now. All the prayers she said about him were gone into nothingness. Nothing existed between them anymore, not marriage or partnership or friendship.

They both closed the gap with a kiss. Now Elliot was taking her clothes off with shaking hands. When they're both down to just skin all the barriers are gone. It's like they float away, dark crows against the setting sun. She led him into the bedroom and relinquished control of herself for the first time ever. Sure, she'd been with other men, but she always tried to maintain some level of control.

Now her weak body was in Elliot's hands. His formerly harsh advances have become very gentle and loving.

_Kathy, was he always like this in bed? Why did you leave him? Did you have the bruises, too?_

Olivia shivers when it's over, huddling in the blankets next to him. Elliot is asleep, a contented smile on his face. She watches him for a long time. Something has ended between them, but there is now something new. It's exciting and a little bit scary.

She wonders if they'd end up tearing each other to bits.

Or would this actually work?

We might just die in the process, she thinks. But before there are any answers, OIivia falls asleep.

He leaves a note by the bed the next morning.


	10. Ghost Lights

She was the strongest person he'd ever known.

He found her by the water, cowering in the tall grass like a frightened animal. Munch, Fin and Cragen had spent the whole day looking for her while Elliot sat at the station praying. It wasn't the first time Olivia had run off. It wasn't like he didn't know where she would go. The marsh was where it happened.

The first time she ran, Elliot was able to coax her back to the car and take her home. She just stood there in the doorway of her apartment, soundlessly gaping up at him. Olivia's face was smudged and her clothes were in tatters. He just couldn't leave her like that. Elliot cleaned her up and got her into a pair of pajamas. He practically carried her to the couch and made a cup of tea for both of them. Long into the night, Elliot held her, watching and waiting for her to sleep and anticipating the next morning when Olivia wouldn't remember anything.

This time, though, she seemed different.

"Liv?" he whispered, crashing around the cattails. Her head turned slowly, a mask of sorrow.

"They're never coming back, are they?" Olivia sighed.

"No, I don't think they are," Elliot said, crouching beside her. "If it makes you feel any better, everyone's worried."

Olivia simply shook her head. The marsh smelled musty and oily. A crow sounded off somewhere in the distance. "Sometimes, when things get really quiet, it's like I can hear them, calling out. Everytime I close my eyes I see the bright lights," she said, looking at the sky. The sun was setting, casting shadows and coloring the heavens a shade of orange.

Elliot was looking at his reflection in the murky water. "It should have been me. If I had gone, this wouldn't have happened," he mumbled.

She looked at him, eyes watering. He really would have gone in her place. Sometimes he loved her so much it felt like his heart was going to burst. Three of the most terrible days of his life were spent in this marsh, hoping that fleeting handclasp wouldn't be their last contact. Elliot yelled at God a lot those days. He thought about suicide. There were times he'd be running around the boggy expanse, carrying on like a madman. That last glimpse of her filled him with terror. He couldn't go on if she weren't beside him.

Early the fourth morning, a scream broke the stillness. He'd been in a half doze when the sound echoed across the brackish water. There was no question: it was Olivia. After a mad dash through the weeds and the water, he found her naked and shivering. Her face was bruised and covered with scratches. Puncture wounds covered her body and one foot was nearly mutilated. Tears spilled on her wounded cheeks as she reached up for him, hoarsely screaming his name. Elliot snapped her up in his arms and ran towards the approaching sirens. As the attendants wrapped her in blankets and started IVs, he cradled her head in his lap, stroking her matted auburn hair.

That was three months ago. Things weren't getting any better for either of them. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep. It was hard to squeeze a five word sentence out of her.

"I wish it hadn't happened to you," he said, remembering how cold her body felt when he carried her out to the ambulance. "I guess I wish a lot of things."

They slept together now. No sex. Maybe if the whole thing hadn't happened, they would have consumated things because that's the way their relationship was heading before all this. But all Elliot wanted was to feel the warmth from her body as proof, maybe, that he had saved her. Olivia snuck out in the middle of the night while Elliot napped beside her.

"You held me last night in your sleep," she said. The tree limbs were black against the orange sky. "And I held you back. But I had to go. It's calling me and the only time it stops is when I'm here, and then I can't remember..."

She trailed off. "I know," he said. They both stood up and looked at each other. "Liv, did they...because if they did, I..."

She hung her head. There was no easy answer to that question. Elliot shifted on his feet as the wind began to blow.

"They did. I tried to fight them, but I wasn't strong enough. They took me and ripped my clothes off and each of them took a turn."

Elliot covered his mouth with his hand to keep from screaming. He felt a ripping and tearing sensation inside his body and it was all he could do not to completely go out of control. Sharp pinpricks of light gathered behind his eyes, forcing them shut tight. The urge to step back overcame Elliot but a hand on his face stopped him.

"It was either me or they'd have killed you. I did what I had to do," she whispered. He opened his eyes to see Olivia's face only inches from his. It was like looking into the eyes of a mental patient behind plexiglass. You can't hear them scream. But you know something's very wrong.

"You shouldn't have gone," he growled through a clenched jaw. His hands were shaking.

"I had to."

He pulled her into an embrace. All his anger dissolved into tears. Elliot buried his face in her hair and cried for the both of them. Olivia remained stony, occasionally clenching his back.

After what seemed like hours, his tears stopped. The sun had gone down. All around them, crickets chirped and the wind blew through the tall grass. Elliot felt marginally better but tired and weak. Olivia wiped his face with her sleeve and led him by the hand back to the car. They drove home in near silence and this time it was Olivia who had to help him through the door and into pajamas.

As they laid down, Elliot mustered the strength to grasp her hand. They just didn't say anything for a long time. He heard the bathroom faucet dripping and a siren in the distance. "I love you," he said suddenly, resting her hand on his heart. There was no use in going through the motions they were just friends anymore.

Olivia was already fast asleep. He wrapped his arms around her.

Tomorrow he'd tell her again.


	11. Song For the Asking

**Song For the Asking**

He could barely see her sitting in the window, framed by the yellow light of the streetlamp. How long had it been, three weeks, a month, five weeks? Not a day had gone by without his thoughts bending back towards her.

"You're back," he croaked. The slumped figure didn't move. "Cragen called me."

Elliot walked further into the dusty living room. It smelled unused and stuffy. He could also smell Olivia, the way horses smell rain. It was instinctual. So often he'd tried to forget her in those long weeks. There was so much to regret now. God knows.

"I'm...I...Munch told me you got hurt," Elliot stuttered. He was squinting towards her and could make out a bandage wrapped around one of her hands. He missed her so much his soul hurt.

A siren screamed by, then the room was quiet again. Olivia's head was bowed, like she was praying.

"You really went for her, didn't you?"

Elliot's head shot up like a rocket. His body stiffened. He stared at her for a long moment and then sat with a grunt on the couch. Olivia didn't move from the window sill.

"It wasn't anything," he finally said.

"That's not what I heard, Elliot. You two were all over each other."

Elliot frowned. "Who told you that?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Dammit, I wasn't that far underground. Word tends to travel, especially when your partner makes a fool of himself."

It was beginning to rain. The light in the room began to softly fade. Olivia retreated back into the shadows. Almost total silence enveloped them, save for the faint patter of rain on the window. Elliot was aware of how cold the room had become, and how the remaining light made it all look like a runny watercolor painting.

"Liv, you date. Why can't I?"

He heard her swallow hard. "Because I don't date my _partner_," Olivia breathed.

A crack of thunder made Elliot jolt slightly at the comment. She had a point. And Olivia probably heard all the details second hand and had to defend his actions. He got up and walked towards the window, where Olivia was concentrating on the storm. At first, he thought the ragged shadows of rain were streaking her face. But when she turned to look at him, tears spilled over her cheeks and down her pale neck.

"Why?" she said softly. Olivia's breathing was hard and raspy. "Why could you...after what you said to me in the hospital..."

She was shaking her head slightly, not bothering to wipe away the tears. Elliot put his hands on her shoulders.

"Because what you and I are...what we have...is different. You know that," he said, regretting it almost as soon as it came out of his mouth.

"No! We're not!" Olivia cried, putting her hands over her eyes. Elliot was beginning to shake.

_We're different because I didn't love her_, he wanted to say.

"What did they tell you?" he demanded, trying to overcome the urge to pry Olivia's hands away from her face. She didn't say anything, so he gently wraped his hands around her wrists and began to pull.

"Oivia, what did they tell you?"

She jerked from his grasp and looked him square in the eye. "You're always so damn mad. I can't deal with that anymore. I knew that telling you how I felt would just be another goddamn hassle, like in the bus station, when I needed you," she spat. "They told me you were all over this woman...and that everyone was saying you blew two investigations because I wasn't there to watch you."

Elliot winced as if he'd been cut. It was true. And all this after telling Olivia sort of how important she was to him.

"Leave, Elliot."

She was still crying. But now so was he.

"Liv, I want you to listen to me."

Their eyes met unsteadily again. He stepped closer.

"I'm sorry," he said very softly. "I didn't know.."

"Well, now you do. Leave," Olivia quietly demanded. Instead, Elliot stepped even closer, until he could feel her breath on his neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again.

"I know," she whispered back. The words hung in the air thickly. Elliot knew he should leave. His heart was beating so fast it threatened to rupture through his chest. He put his trembling hands on her arms. Olivia didn't move. It seemed like the room was shrinking like something from "Alice In Wonderland".

"Please," Olivia breathed. Elliot leaned down until their lips touched lightly. She moaned a little, way back in her throat. The sound alone opened every pore on his body. Elliot could hear his heartbeat, amplified a thousand times in his eardrums.

He was only able to stop on sheer willpower, something that hadn't been of much use to him lately.

"You have to understand," Elliot said, his lips hovering inches away from hers. Olivia's eyes were screwed shut. They flew open only when he touched her face softly.

Olivia laid a hand on his heart.

"See you at work?" he asked hopefully, caressing her cheek.

Olivia just nodded and watched him walk out the door. He stood in the hallway for a few minutes, thinking about what had just happened. Things had just grown more complicated, but Elliot didn't care.

His heart was hers for the taking.

XXXXXXX

**Author's Note:**

**Next two are reader's choice. Send me a song, poem or situation and I'll write up some of them!**


	12. Before I Sleep

_**"...and miles to go before I sleep."**_

She'd remember the sky was slate grey, They were on the way back from an investigation upstate and relations in the car were just as chilly as the weather. Nothing had gone right: it snowed, the police cruiser broke down, the rental agency only had sports cars. Then Elliot hit her with a full-on air assault against her treatment of Dani.

Casey had let it slip that Elliot and Dani were sleeping together. This news made Olivia edgy and sad and it only got worse when she met the "other woman". Dani was possessive and cold. Fin, Munch and Casey didn't like her. Olivia came back from her weeks undercover as a stranger in the relationship. She didn't like that one bit.

"What's the matter? I'd expect the jealous act from Kathy, not from you," he said, snapping off the radio. Olivia had to restrain every muscle in her body to keep from slapping him. If they weren't in the car she would have simply walked away. Instead, she focused her attention on keeping the little Subaru on the slick roads.

They were quiet for a long time. Elliot still harbored many Catholic guilts about sex. And while Olivia had been pretty carefree about it in her younger days, SVU work put it all in check.

She often imagined what it would be like to "be" with Elliot. He had no problems with practically undressing in front of her. His raw, sensual side was sometimes uncontained. Once, when they were working out together alone in the precinct, he playfully wrestled her to the floor. They were laughing hysterically until a bolt of fear shot between them and it awkwardly ended. This would have been about the time Elliot's marriage fell to pieces.

So there was a lot running through Olivia's mind that frosty day. Elliot sighed and rested his head against the window. The roads were getting worse and the blowing snow was knocking the visibility down to mere feet. There was a long curve that didn't look much worse than the rst of the road, but as the car entered it, the rear end began to slalom.

Olivia grunted through gritted teeth. She slammed the brake, feeling the ABS system pulse. Elliot sat bolt upright as the little car skidded to the left, then right.

"OLIVIA!" he screamed just as the car caught the edge of the road. She swung the wheel wildly, but it didn't help. The Subaru toppled down a bank. Through the windshield, Olivia saw alternating views of sullen sky and white ground before they landed upside down, in a heap, straddling a dry creek bed.

There must have been a loss of consciousness because Olivia would never rememeber the landing or the airbag going off. She opened her eyes to find the world white and upside-down. The seat belt was beyond tight, it was excruciating against her stomach. Warmth dripped from her face onto the blood-smeared airbag. Her hand went to her nose. It felt swollen and out of place.

She fell against the steering column with a thump after unbuckling the seatbelt. Other than the leaky nose, Olivia didn't think she was hurt all that bad. But then she remembered Elliot. He was in her peripheral vision, but the seat was blocking most of his body.

"El? You with me?" she asked, gratified to hear a groan and see some movement. The power windows still worked, so she was able to lower both and shimmy out into the snow. What had once been an almost new sports car was in a million plastic pieces. Stumbling to Elliot's side of the car, Olivia helped him unbuckle the seatbelt and monkey out.

That's when she discovered the trouble. Blood was seeping from his side. It stained the snow rose red as it ran down his leg. He leaned against the car, looking much too pale. There was no cellphone signal, so Olivia went around gathering up what luggage she could find. One of Elliot's t-shirts would double as a bandage for now. She stuffed a duffel bag full of clothes and put on another sweatshirt under her jacket.

Elliot's breathing was shallow but he managed to stay on his feet. She stuffed the t-shirt over the wound and bundled him up with his parka and jacket.

"Your nose is bleeding," he said in a husky whisper. Olivia wiped the blood on her sleeve and put her hand on his side.

"We've got to walk to get help. Hold this to your side," she ordered, careful not to sound too panicked. His blue eyes shone with pain. There was no time to think. They had to get moving.

Where they'd go, Olivia was uncertain. The road was untraveled and rural with no mailboxes or garbage cans in sight. Snow blew into her eyes and the cold wind chilled the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. Her bones ached and her heart ached for Elliot, who was gamely keeping up with her giant steps through the snow. A cup of hot coffee would be nice. Even a cup of chicken soup would take the edge off. Hell, she'd settle for two hippies in Volkswagon bus, long as Cheech and Chong could take them to a hospital.

They walked and walked through the swirling snow. The sun was a faint glow behind the gray clouds, casting a ghostly shimmer on the white powder. A mile later Elliot was really leaning on Olivia. The t-shirt was soaked through and caked with ice where it hung out of his clothes. "Here's another fine mess you've gotten us into, Ollie," he mumbled as they struggled through a ditch. Olivia furrowed her brow and kept up the pace, which now resembled a Bataan death march.

"I have to sit down," Elliot pleaded breathlessly and she was powerless as he plopped down on a tree stump. All this walking just hammered home the fact he was built like a brick shithouse. Her shoulders ached from his weight, but they had to keep going or freeze in the whiteout.

After a minute of rest, Olivia prised her partner from the stump and they dragged on. It was really one-horse open sleigh weather. She thought of hot cider and a cup of cocoa with marshmallow Fluff on top. A warm bath and clean sheets. Watching a "Moonlighting" DVD on a cold, rainy night, wrapped in blankets.

Elliot broke her reverie by grabbing one of her hands. He grabbed the other and held them in his own, rubbing furiously. He blew on them and held them to his chest. Olivia was stunned and couldn't hide her expression of amazement.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, still holding her hands.

"For what?"

"Everything."

She stared deep into his eyes. It was a sincere gesture. And there was love, too. She'd forgotten how much she liked his eyes. Most of the time they snapped with anger or went flat with defeat. Only when Elliot was being sincere were they warm and open, so blue Olivia's breath would sometimes die in her lungs. This was one of those times.

"El, we need to get moving before we freeze," she said, letting him hold her hands a little longer. "Sorry" still really wasn't going to cut it, but it was a start.

Their teeth chattered insistently as they plowed on. Elliot grew pale and starting wobbling a bit. This pressed a new urgency into Olivia's stride, so much she was practically dragging him over the snowbanks. Just as she was headed full tilt through another one, something hard gave resistance and she was suddenly staring at a weatherbeaten mailbox.

"This is a driveway! El! Here!"

He appeared out of the snow. The winding driveway snaked between the trees and continued out of sight. Olivia grabbed his cold hand and pulled him along the snow-packed expanse.

_Dear God Dear God Please Let this Be a House Or A House of Pancakes Or _

She prayed the whole way, using what was left of her strength help Elliot. The driveway dipped, and when they climbed out of it, a small building came into view. Olivia let out a breath and broke into a run. Elliot stumbled behind her, gripping her hand tightly.

First they knocked. There was no answer. The snow seemed to intensify, and so did Olivia's coldness. Elliot sat on the steps, watching intently. When the welcome mat slid a little under her feet, it exposed a key. It made sense to keep it there because there was literally no civilization around them. With trembling hands, Olivia unlocked the door and they cautiously ventured in. A small penlight on Elliot's keychain confirmed her suspicions. It was a vacation cabin, no electricity. Still, there was a huge fireplace and a stack of wood outside.

"You lay down," she instructed. "I'll get the wood."

Elliot wobbled to the industrial-style bed and fell heavily on the bare mattress. The springs sagged audibly. Olivia went back out into the snow and grabbed an armload of wood. She was feeling terribly stiff and sore but couldn't be sure if it was the accident or the walk that did it. He was still lying on the bed when she struggled back in.

"I don't know much about fireplaces," she said, trying to rouse him. Elliot didn't move. The light in the cabin was dim but she could see his closed eyes. "You passed out, you bastard!"

Heroically, Olivia managed to open the flue and start a decent blaze, thanks to some scrounged matches and a Quik-Start log that had been sitting on the mantel. The room was suddenly saturated with a warm golden light. It illuminated an old easy chair, a rudimentary kitchen and two doors. Upon inspection, one was a supply closet filled with towels, sheets and gallon jugs of water. The other was a small bathroom with a makeshift commode that was really only a bucket with a seat on it. Still, it saved chilly trips to the outhouse in the middle of the night.

"Liv?"

She rushed to the bed. Elliot was awake again but pale and feverish. He brushed his fingers on her arm and smiled.

"I need to get sheets on the bed and get you into some dry clothes, okay?" Olivia was purposely businesslike. In his woozy state, Elliot was trying to sit up and pull his pants off. "Need any help?"

"Are you offering?"

Olivia didn't say anything.

"S'fine, I can manage," he said, smiling gratefully when she handed him a tank top and sweatpants. The room was starting to warm up.

Elliot walked slowly across the floor and sunk into the old easy chair with a dusty thump. The sheets were musty and smelled faintly of woodsmoke, but they were relatively clean. She changed into her pajamas in the bathroom. Then it was time to check Elliot's injury.

There was a first aid kit on the kitchen wall. Elliot made his way back to the bed and Olivia helped push him up on his good side. The wound was deep but not that large. She swabbed around it with peroxide soaked cotton and fastened three layers of gauze over it with surgical tape. A nurse she wasn't; but this would have to do. Elliot rolled over on his back and sighed, staring into the fire. The tank top just barely covered his chest. Olivia tried not to stare but it was impossible.

There was a can of stew in the cupboard, so after thirty minutes of hanging over the flames, they had a hot meal with blazing tin cups of hot tea. The light in the room was beginning to darken. Olivia quietly gave thanks they found the cabin, threadbare as it was. She scooted in bed beside Elliot, exhausted. It would have been too tiring to even go through the motions of sleeping in the easy chair.

"I said something in the car I shouldn't have," he said contritely. Their arms touched under the sheets and OIivia wondered if he could feel her gooseflesh. "I compared you to Kathy."

"Maybe I know how she felt when you started spending more time with me than at home," she muttered, picking at a loose string on the blanket. "You and Dina have every right to have a relationship, if you want."

"No we don't. She's not who I remembered. Maybe I just changed. But I needed something..."

He ran a hand across his face.

"...just to take the edge off. Half the time I feel like a volcano about to burst. I didn't know where you were or how you were..."

Olivia stared as the ceiling as his words sank in.

"Liv, something's eating you and it was eating you before all this. What's up?"

She turned and regarded him sadly. Now was the time. It wasn't terribly earth-shattering, just something she'd hoped would have ended better.

"Elliot, I have a sister."

He sat straight up.

"Okay, a half sister."

"My God," he said. "How the hell did you find this out?"

"There was a year I lived in Texas with my grandparents. It was supposed to be a time to give my mother a break. She was having a real hard time with me when I was four. I was too young to think anything of it. About three months ago one of my old aunts spilled the beans. Mom met another professor and they had an affair. She got pregnant but couldn't keep the baby so a couple from Mexico adopted my sister."

Olivia was crying now. Elliot held her hand.

"I was able to track her down through NCIS. She graduated from Brown...I saw her picture...and she had my eyes. She joined a government agency but disappeared in 2002. No one knows where she is."

"The worst thing is I met her once...because her partner was John, one of your ex-partners."

Elliot's head sagged. "I hear John dropped out of site, too. Olivia, I wish you would have told me this. Kathy's still friends with John's ex-wife," he said quietly. "You could have used a sister."

"I know."

They didn't say anything for a long time. Olivia listened to the soft sounds of the wind blowing outside. Elliot still had her hand.

It had been terrible to find out about Monica. Too much too late. At this point it would have almost been better not to know at all. All the anger she had for her mother boiled up at this, another terrible secret. A betrayal.

"Some fun, huh?" she choked out.

"There is no real pleasure in life," Elliot replied. He moved closer, reaching out to touch her face.

Olivia felt heat deep in the core of her body. It wasn't anger.

"We're really screwed-up people, aren't we?" she chuckled, running her hand across his chest.

Elliot grabbed the hand and began kissing her fingers.

"I don't want us to think this will be a mistake," he said. His mouth moved to her face, kissing her jaw and ear over and over. Olivia couldn't stand it anymore. She guided his mouth to hers and they kissed for the very first time. At first it was timid, but all the longing and the need surfaced and turned it dark and passionate.

Elliot moved his busy hands to her stomach and scrabbled at the string that held her sweatpants on.

"El...wait..."

He stopped and looked at her expectantly.

"I want to," she panted. 'It's just...you know..."

He shook his head and kissed her softly.

"I know. There'll be other nights. I need you. I realized that a while back. I can't seem to see past you anymore."

She rested her head on his shoulder and immediately fell asleep. The sound of Elliot's steady breathing soothed her into dreaming they were on a beach somewhere, watching the golden sunrise.

XXX

Olivia woke to a pounding on the door. Elliot was still asleep beside her, holding her tightly. The cabin floor was cold as she flew across it to grab an andiron in case the knock was unfriendly. She opened the door a crack and braced herself.

"Miss Benson, I'm Trooper Bannish. Your precinct is in a tizzy."

"How'd you find us?"

"We found the car and when we didn't find you guys we figured you looked for shelter. This is the only place for miles. I'll wait in the truck so you guys can pack up."

Thirty minutes later, Elliot and Olivia were sharing a thermos of hot coffee and telling Bannish about their little adventure, leaving out the details of the night's encounter. They went to a clinic for treatment and it turned out Olivia had broken her nose and Elliot was dehydrated and needed six stitches. Munch came to pick them up and he had to endure a cranky ride back to New York after he remarked Olivia's nose looked like a summer squash.

Olivia sopped around her apartment like a wet rag for two days. All of her energy was gone. Everything had been about Elliot and Monica lately. Her body was simply warn out. Casey came by and reported Elliot was about the same way.

Saturday night, Olivia was on the couch staring at Monica's picture. It was her FBI badge. Munch helped Olivia get it. She could have stared at it for hours, wondering about how one of the edges got burnt and the smeared black X on the back. Olivia wondered if they could have been friends. She hoped so.

Then she must have fallen asleep because Elliot was beside her on the couch when she woke up. He was looking at Monica's badge.

"You were right about the eyes. Pretty girl," he said.

"How are you doing?"

"Okay long as I don't stand up or sit down too fast. How about you?"

"Fine."

She flipped on the TV only to find Paula Dean hooting over some high-fat delicacy. Elliot kept staring at the badge.

"We'll find her," said Elliot.

"Maybe so. I pray for her a lot Elliot, and hope she's found peace wherever. Glad she lived with a loving family. I just hate to think I missed her because of who my mother was."

Elliot covered her hand with his and turned his attention to the TV.

"We have some unfinished business to take care of," Olivia said, snapping off the remote. The room was lit by the hollow glow of the streetlamps.

"Yeah, that's what I came over to talk about. Everything I said up there was true. Besides my kids, you're the most important person in the world to me. But I don't want to risk what we have now," he said softly. "Unless you want to."

Olivia leaned over to kiss him, marvelling at the intense blue of his eyes. "Would you like to see the bedroom? I just got a new lamp," she smiled.

Olivia slept deeply that night, glowing like a star next to Elliot's sweaty body. She said she loved him. It had been a long journey to that conclusion. It was a hard-fought battle won.

She dreamed of the snow-covered driveway, which led long and steep to a destination unknown. At the top was either salvation or damnation. Olivia had a little of both now.

_**The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,**_

_**But I have promises to keep,**_

_**And miles to go before i sleep,**_

_**And miles to go before I sleep.**_

_**(Robert Frost)**_


	13. My Sister

_**And now the purple dusk of twilight time**_

_**Steals across the meadows of my heart**_

_**High up in the sky, the little stars climb**_

_**Always reminding me that we're apart...**_

"So that's her," Munch said, handing Olivia the worn badge. She touched it gently. It was burned at the corners and a smudged "X" was slashed across the back.

"Monica," Olivia said, more to herself. The picture was blurred from the sand beneath the plastic laminate, but the eyes were so clear. They were Olivia's eyes.

"Shame about them," Munch said, shaking his head. He perched on the corner of the desk, facing her. "I knew one of their co-workers really well. They all just dropped off the face of the earth."

"Is she dead?" Olivia asked, tears in her eyes.

"Legally, yes. They found the badge in the desert a week after everyone involved in that FBI department disappeared. One of my buddies from Baltimore was able to get it for me...with you as a next of kin, you know? But I'll tell you a secret..."

He leaned forward and whispered in OIivia's ear.

"...knowing Fox Mulder...I think they're all alive somewhere."

Munch left Olivia sitting in the office alone in the dim light of the desk lamps. She'd met Monica Reyes briefly due to pure happenstance. Monica's partner was Elliot's old partner.

_"I was a real young buck at the time," Elliot remembered. "Doggett was serious as stone."_

_"Kind of like you are now," smiled Olivia. They were sitting on her stoop, just watching the cars go past._

_"Nah. He was just different. I saw him after his son was killed and the guy acted like he didn't know me at all. That's why I was shocked when he came up to me last week. What was his partner like?"_

_Olivia searched the sky for the right word. It came to her in a bolt._

_"Spooky."_

It had taken a mountain of detective work to track Monica down. One of Olivia's old relatives from Texas blurted out the long-held family secret. They moved to Texas for a year when Olivia was four. One day, her mother disappeared, leaving little Olivia alone with her grandparents in Fort Worth. It wasn't a painful separation because the elder Bensons had a pool, money and big hearts. She suspected they didn't even know why their daughter disappeared for six months, but evidentally the news got out. An affair with a married man produced Olivia's sister, who was adopted by a semi-affluent Mexican family.

Beside her mother's dalliance, what bothered Olivia the most was that she always wanted an extra ally in the immediate family. She always wanted a little sister or brother. Now, after all these years of denial, she finally had one. It was just too late.

"Monica Reyes," boomed a voice behind her. Elliot emerged out of the darkness in the shadowy squad room and manifested seemingly out of midair right in front of Olivia.

"She was my sister," Olivia mumbled. Elliot crashed into his chair, shaking his head.

"I talked to Munch about it yesterday and tried to call John. I even called Kathy, who used to be pretty tight with John's wife. No one's seen or heard of him since 2002. Not so much as a whisper in church," he said. Olivia noticed he was playing with a pencil, one of Elliot's nervous quirks.

"She loved John. I could tell just in the short time we were with them," she smiled. Elliot had been sick on the way back from an interview upstate. They stopped just off the highway to get some Gatorade and ginger ale and something to help him sleep. That's when they all ran into each other. This was in April of 2002. Both John and Monica had very little time left.

Monica seemed distant and battered. Olivia could remember her pale skin and bruised arms. If she had only known then...

"Munch's sure she'll turn up somewhere," Elliot said, breaking Olivia's train of thought. She just shook her head sadly and held the ID badge close to her heart. "He seems to think the two of them got wrapped up in something pretty heavy and went underground."

"I wish I could help her," Olivia sighed. "I've prayed for her all day."

"You could've used a sister," he smiled. That lopsided, infrequent smile sent a sad pang through Olivia's heart. She had one thing in common with Monica: They loved the men they worked with.

XXX

They walked through Central Park, staring at the moonlit sky. "You've been so quiet," Elliot said softly, putting a hand on her arm.

"I don't know. It's been a rough month, coming back from California, you've changed, I find out about Monica."

"Yeah," Elliot said. Dani had turned into one of the biggest mistakes of his life. Olivia didn't act jealous or mad...just odd and quiet, as she'd been at dinner. Her dark eyes were dull in the half-light of the streetlamps.

They sat down in the silence. A soft wind ruffled the treetops and tousled Olivia's hair. Elliot reached over and swept her bangs out of her eyes. She jumped slightly at his contact.

"Sorry," they both mumbled, staring at the ground in perfect sync.

"Munch said Monica was supposed to have psychic powers," Olivia finally said. Elliot turned to look at her, to see if it was a joke. It wasn't. "I don't have them, if you're wondering."

"I wasn't."

Olivia moved closer to him and stared at the sky. It was a small comfort to think Monica might be under the same sky, looking at the same stars and praying for a sister she never knew.

"Would John take good care of her?" Olivia asked. Elliot rubbed his upper lip with the back of his hand. A new nervous habit.

"From what I gather, they were very much in love with each other. Kathy said John's ex was sure something had or was going to happen right before they dropped out of sight. John could be a bastard, but he was loyal sonofabitch," Elliot said, wincing at his lack of loyalty to Olivia.

She reached over and tangled her fingers in his. It was a revelation to both of them.

"I wanted to talk to you tonight, Olivia. I wanted you to know - "

He took a deep breath.

"- how much I missed you. I kept expecting you to walk through the door. Dani was a mistake. I don't love her."

Elliot's eyes burned into Olivia's. She felt herself turn red as a hotness coursed through her body, starting at the fingertips he touched and ending at her toes.

"We'll find your sister," he whispered. Another breeze blew around them, and the moon was swept behind a cloud.

"Elliot," Olivia croaked, finally allowing the tears to run down her face. It was the first time in weeks she allowed herself to cry. Elliot responded by taking her face in his hands and wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "I missed you, too."

He leaned in closer and began to kiss her tear-stained face softly. Olivia felt his hands shaking against her jaw. She covered one of his hands with hers and moved toward him to encourage the kissing. It was intoxicating and soothing just to surrender to his lips on her cheeks, forehead and eyelids.

Their lips finally touched. What began as another soft kiss slowly deepend. Just when Olivia thought she'd float up to the starry heavens, Elliot pulled away slightly and settled his lips on her forehead.

"We'll find her," he said again. They both walked away arm in arm down the leafy path as the shooting stars and planets and planes lit up the heavens. Olivia's heart felt like it would burst.

_**You wander down the lane and far away**_

_**Leaving me a song that will not die**_

_**Love is now the stardust of yesterday**_

_**The music of the years gone by.**_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_A/N: This one takes some explaination. It stands independent of the last story. Monica is Monica Reyes from "X Files". She and her partner, John Doggett, were left in the desert after Mulder and Scully escaped aliens and government conspiracy officers. It is believed they had to go on the run. Monica had to struggle with knowing very little about her past, other than her adoption. The audience was led to believe there was something borderline evil about her past, though it was never made clear exactly what it was. Anyways, since we're supposed to find out some "big" secrets of Olivia's past next season...and Mariska Hargitay and Annabeth Gish share a vague passing resemblance, here goes._


	14. blackbirds

High above the leafless trees, blackbirds circle Central Park, casting their shadows on a couple sitting on a bench.

She is quiet and sad. They don't come out here together very often anymore. There aren't many good times between them. But she does remember walking on his arm through the green grass of spring. It was an indulgence happily granted and taken for granted when their relationship was young and they could still see the Trade Center through the tops of the trees.

It would have been easier not to love him. She loves him now, even the slight strands of gray that dot his dark hair.

He takes her hand in his own and runs his fingers across her cold palm.

"I think this is what we need to do. I just never thought, you know, that we would..."

Olivia listens as he trails off. There's so much between his hesitant words. His brow furrows in thought. She moves closer and rests her head on his shoulder. Some kids are playing on the swings nearby and their laughter punctuates the air. Elliot wraps an arm around her.

"What did Cragen say?" she asks.

Elliot sighs and stares at the slate colored sky. The lines and creases around his eyes deepen. She wonders how she must look.

"He said he understood," Elliot says, still looking up into the bare branches of an old walnut tree. Olivia just nods and feels his arms tighten around her. "I told him we had to get away for awhile. They'll bring some detectives in from one of the boroughs to cover for all of us."

The tears begin to form again in Elliot's steely eyes. Olivia can do nothing but stroke his arm. His mood had swung from sorrow to violence in the past few days. Hers stayed steady at numb and glacial. Noises and colors seemed muted. Everything seemed to fade down to the lightest pastel.

She can't think about that day. It just wouldn't come in clear. Random thoughts and sounds were all she could recall. The crackling radios. Sirens fading in the distance. The coppery smell of blood. Elliot's arms smeared with it. Casey standing dumbstruck in the precinct when the news came. Fin's badge hitting the captain's desk with a clunk and his footsteps retreating down the corridor.

"Liv?"

She wipes her eyes and stares in his direction. "You were going away again on me," he says patiently, his own eyes bloodshot.

"Sorry," she says. The children have all gone and their part of the park is quiet. The autumn smell of burning leaves fills the air. Elliot is staring at the ground where their feet have kicked grooves in the sand.

"I think I might quit," he says. She knows he doesn't mean it. They both know the terrible truth, that the loss of a human life is just a small raindrop in large bucket. It is futility that old cops battle, not criminals.

She shakes her head, willing herself not to cry. Elliot is quiet. He hasn't shaved since the previous morning. "I want to leave New York," she frowns.

"Not forever," Elliot says. She shakes her head no, too troubled to speak. "I can't lose you, you know?"

Their eyes meet. She flashes back to the months-ago time they sat on a hospital couch and he said the same thing. For various reasons, she didn't believe him. Now she does. It's just terrible that this moment is lost in her broken heart.

"I'm going to drive to Maine tonight," Olivia says, never breaking eye contact. "I want you to come with me."

"This is never going to heal is it? I heard him get hit. I heard the air leave his lungs," Elliot says, standing up. "All I could do is return fire."

He's getting agitated again. Elliot faces away from her, shaking, his hands balled into fists. "They told me he was dead in a minute. Never knew what hit him. His eyes were glassy. Liv, he was so alive one minute, then I'm at his funeral two days later. I can't reconcile that."

Olivia approaches him and lays a hand on his back. Elliot turns and embraces her, crying out of frustration. They know they could lose each other the same way, which is why things will have to change between them soon.

"I don't really want to go to Maine," Olivia whispers. She feels him shake his head. "Stay with me tonight. I get so...cold..."

The first flakes of snow are falling. They both look up at the sky.

The blackbirds still circle overhead as they walk away, hand in hand.


	15. November Rain

_**When I look into your eyes**_

_**I can see a love restrained...**_

The slate gray sky unleashed a freezing drizzle on New York that Sunday afternoon. He begged off the card game with Munch, Fin and Casey and spend the afternoon just pacing around the city. In store windows, people shopped and ate in the warmth and looked out at the rain with uneasy frowns.

New York is a terrible place to feel lonely. It would have been better if he were in Maine or Kentucky where melancholy is brought on by geographical isolation. The hustle and bustle of Manhattan, for so long a comfort to him, faded into a smeared din of colors and disjointed sounds.

The drizzle turned to an insistent sleet. It made a small clatter as it bounced off the sidewalks and taxi cabs. Steam began to rise from the manholes when the warm air met the chilly air on top of the pavement. It collided...

_**"**You shouldn't be alone this weekend," she pleaded. The divorce had been finalized. It was over. All he could hear was his own heart, loud like a hammer-beat. _

_"I'll be fine. You just do what you do," he said through gritted teeth. There was an urge to push her down or aside._

_"You don't ever want to let anyone in. God, no wonder Kathy left you."_

_And with that, the one woman he really - was it love? or something worse? - slammed the door and disappeared into the night. _

...with what was on the outside. The bare tree branches arched overhead and creaked and groaned in the wind. There was a house waiting for him but it was cold and empty. It sighed in the wind, too, and the pops of the structure settling into place kept him awake at night.

The familiar old need soaked into his chilly bones. It was want to possess another living thing. Some undying allegiance that would happen between the two of them. In the long run, it would give him the right to touch her when things would get lonely.

But Olivia Benson wouldn't let him in. She prodded for every detail in his life and offered few from hers. Sometimes in the precinct he'd just stare at her auburn hair and feel a surge of hate for the woman that pulled his heart in so many separate directions at once.

She was the one to blame. Not him.

The sidewalks began to grow slick. Even the traffic seemed to be slowing down. Elliot walked on, never faultering in his step.

Did he love her? Yes and no. In the day to day he didn't. It was too painful to imagine there'd be a chance of losing her. When the knife split her skin in the train station, a long-hidden fear burst through him like a bolt of lighting. There would come a day when Olivia would be gone from his life either by geography, death or love. He'd watched her steady parade of boyfriends throughout the years and sized most of them up as losers. These guys couldn't give her anything Elliot couldn't.

That was where Kathy fell through the cracks. She began to slowly fade away into the blue. The night she told him about the divorce, he smashed everything he could get his hands on. It took a bottle of Munch's whiskey and a full night's sleep to calm him down. Olivia wanted to help. Actually she wanted to barge in and take over in her usual interfering well-meaning way. But this was between Kathy and Elliot. Throwing Olivia into the mix would have made things worse because God knows what Kathy thought they were doing.

The cold pressed in against him and the damp began to surge into his skin. Streetlights popped on in the unnatural darkness, giving the sidewalks an eerie glow. Shoppers rushed home with their parcels.

Yes, he loved her. Just the slightest brush of her skin or a myopic smile in his direction made him weak. She didn't need him to be happy. Olivia was too smart for him and she didn't like his temper. Her mother had outbursts like his. And yes, he'd caused her physical pain during one of these episodes. It was an accident but seeing the hurt and betrayal on her face was enough. Things hadn't been right between them since then. Bruises fade but feelings sometimes don't.

Did it make a difference that he sometimes woke up crying about her? Elliot pulled his collar up and ducked from doorway to doorway as the storm grew worse. He was dangerously close to crying now. They all knew how he felt. Hell, even Cragen probably figured out that his interest in her was a little more than just being a partner. Maybe Olivia even knew, because sometimes when he'd look into her eyes, something flashed out.

Down the street a tree limb cracked, smashing into a powerline. The streetlights went out and all the lit windows dimmed and died. A siren whined in the distance.

This was Schuler Street. Olivia lived two blocks over on Beach.

The hallway outside her apartment was dark and cold. Somewhere someone was listening to a battery powered radio and clinking glasses. There was just silence from the end of the corridor.

He knocked quietly. The wait for the lock to rattle was unending. There were no footfalls. Elliot knocked again, a little louder.

_"I don't need you," OIivia said, frowning. All he could do was open his mouth and shut it. "You're just the same as everyone else."_

_The red and black explosions Elliot was seeing began to fade. The room had filled with crashing bells and sirens. Now it was just the two of them, panting and in pain. His face stung where her hand made impact. Ten finger-marks were raised in red on her arms. _

_She looked so pale. He watched her walk out, then sunk against the bench and cried like his heart would break._

In the end, he used the key. It was too miserable outside to walk back to his own house.

The apartment was cold. His penlight cast a feeble beam across the dark room. A lump reclined on the sofa with one foot sticking out. Olivia was out like a light.

Elliot snuck around and found his old duffel bag in the closet. Sometimes when they used to work late, he'd change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and the two of them would finish their paperwork over a beer or two. Trying to be quiet as possible, he changed in the bathroom where the sleet made a racket against the window. He managed to upset two pill bottles on the sink...one was aspirin and the other was Xanax. Elliot contemplated the Xanax but decided on the aspirin.

Olivia didn't budge from her place on the couch when he came back in the room. _She's still so pale_, he thought.

"Liv," he said softly. A sigh fell from her lips.

"Can I spend the night here? My clothes are soaked."

She nodded slightly, which Elliot interpreted as a yes. Olivia shivered a little in the cool air; he could see the goose pimples on her skin.

"I wish we were friends again, like we used to be," he whispered. "I miss you, Olivia."

She didn't move or open her eyes. The room was growing colder by the minute. The thin blanket didn't cover her feet or face.

Elliot picked her up gently, marvelling at her lightness. Some of the muted light made its way in the windows and it fell on Olivia. They'd fought long enough. She never knew it caused him physical pain to think of hurting her. The neck wound had closed. Elliot could see the faint scar in the light. Olivia healed and she wasn't going anywhere at this moment. It was just hard to shake that she was everything right and wrong about his life.

She shivered again and that snapped him back to reality. They moved slowly down the hall and into her cave-like bedroom. On the bedside table was a picture of them smiling at a precinct Christmas party in 2002. The picture had been beside her even in the worst of their relationship. Knowing it was there almost was too much, kind of like a discovered secret.

Elliot gently laid her down and pulled the covers up to her chin. Olivia looked so fragile. Even the sound of sleet clicking on the windows didn't open her tired eyes.

He was in the doorway when her voice rose from the bed, startling him.

"Stay in here with me. It's too cold on the couch," she whispered. Elliot turned and squinted at the bed. It was taking a chance. But he was so tired, too, of pretending that they weren't what they were.

He slid in to the sheets beside her. Olivia didn't resist when he pulled her close.

"I missed you, too," she said in a sleepy voice.

"What are we going to do about each other?" he asked. She drew closer and laid her head on his chest.

"I don't know, El. We just seem to attract trouble these days."

He waited for her breathing to even. And when he was sure Olivia was alseep, Elliot kissed her cheek and fell into a deep, dark slumber as the city froze around them.

_**And when your fears subside**_

_**and shadows still remain...**_

_**I know that you can love me**_

_**when there's no one left to blame.**_

_**So never mind the darkness,**_

_**we still can find a way.**_

_**Nothing lasts forever,**_

_**even cold November rain.**_

XXXX

Premium cheese! A Guns N' Roses songfic!


	16. TwentyTwo

**22**

There were very few sounds in the hospital at night. From her bed, sometimes Olivia could sometimes hear the muffled chatter from the nurse's station. Maybe there'd be a TV on somewhere down the hall. That was it.

She needed the silence and craved the darkness for the first few nights. They gave her a private room but she was rarely alone until the sun went down. Casey, Elliot, Munch, Fin and Cragen were frequent daytime visitors. Sometimes Elliot would be at her bedside from dawn to dusk. He was trying to be cheerful, maybe even smile more. He felt it was his fault.

So for three whole nights, Olivia slept like the dead.

Then something strange happened.

At precisely 2am on the first Wednesday night, she woke up to a loud ticking. It sounded like one of those old fashioned alarm clocks but the sound kept getting louder and louder. She felt around on the bedside table, foggy with sleep and trying to find her cup of water. Her fingers made fleeting contact with the smooth plastic edge of the cup before it fell to the floor, spilling on the tile.

The sound of the ticking began to fade. It was replaced by a rasping sound. You know when you get water in your shoes and they squish? It was the same gurgling sound.

She crawled out of bed slowly. The blue light of the call button lit her face a ghostly tint, accentuating the bags beneath her eyes.

The noise disappeared down the hallway. Olivia crept to the door, hoping to see the familiar night nurse making rounds. But the hallway was empty...and the elevator was on its way down. The B button lit up.

Her feet were cold against the floor. She was carrying the small stuffed tiger Cragen gave her. Although she hadn't been up and around much in the last few days, Olivia's progress was slow and steady and sure. Reaching the elevator, she noticed a slight tremor in her hand as she reached out to touch the down button.

Floor by floor lit up. She felt her body grow tense. This was a fool's errand. There was no one around.

The doors opened onto a long hallway. At the end of this hall stood two double doors. One of them was swinging slightly, as if someone had just passed through it.

She stepped slowly toward the doors until the small plate at the top became legible. 22. Wherever she was, it was 22, in the basement of Mercy Hospital very late at night.

It happened when she was about a foot from the doors. Olivia even had an arm out to open them, but the doors swung open anyways. There was a woman in an old-fashioned nurse's uniform staring back at her, wearing an ironic smile.

To Olivia's horror, the room was the morgue. Row upon row of men and women in business suits were lined table to table, wearing toe tags and the vacant, useless expression of the dead. A sound died in her throat, somewhere between a groan and a scream.

The nurse cocked her head.

"Room for one more, honey."

Olivia screamed and the hall stretched to gargantuan size. She screamed and screamed. It seemed like her feet were locked to the floor and the gaze of the nurse would never go away.

It took three nurses and a doctor to restrain her for the sedative. She was back in bed, clutching her tiger, but there was water all over the floor. Olivia was thrashing around so much she didn't feel the needle pierce her skin.

XXXXXXXX

"...night terrors..."

The room was dappled in sunlight. It seeped through her eyelids. The night was over.

"But is she going to be okay?"

That was Elliot's voice and just the sound of it made her feel safe and protected.

When she was admitted, he had been devastated. Elliot wanted to be beside her the whole time, but she'd been insistant that he go to work.

"Liv, you doing okay?" She finally opened her eyes completely. Elliot looked unshaven and tired. Doctor Stevens was there, too.

"You had a scare last night," Dr. Stevens said. He was stern-looking in the spotless white coat and wire-rim glasses. "Do you remember any of it?"

Olivia sat up and tried to clear her mental cobwebs. "I was downstairs. My water fell on the floor and I heard someone walking up the hall and I followed them," she said softly. Elliot moved closer to the bed.

"Did you see who it was?" the doctor pressed. She decided he wasn't unkind, just thorough.

"When I got downstairs, it was a nurse on one of those old fashioned caps and white uniform. She was near the morgue and said there was room for one more."

"Miss Benson, you had a dream. You were in your bed when the night nurse came in. You were screaming something about children," Dr. Stevens said, taking her pulse.

"The morgue was full of people," Olivia said, her eyes filling with tears. "Room 22 was full of us."

Dr. Stevens seemed a little taken aback, but collected himself quickly. The room was suddenly cold. She could see the goose pimples on Elliot's exposed arms.

"Well, I'll leave you two be for awhile. Olivia, remember, it was just a dream," the doctor said, getting up. They both watched him leave.

She sighed. "El, that wasn't a dream. I know it wasn't."

"I believe you. But you're tired, you know? Maybe you only went down the hall. Maybe you just remembered what the morgue looked like from a case," he said, sitting on the side of her bed.

"We've never been here. This isn't a pediatric hospital. It's mainly for people who have...problems," she muttered. Elliot drew her into a warm embrace. His hands soothed her back and the sound of his even breathing soothed her head.

"Hey. When we spring you from here, let's go upstate. Just you and me. We'll get some nice rooms up near Albany and drive up to Vermont and Massachusetts and just be tourists," he said, letting his chin rest on her warm shoulder.

"I'd like that. Anywhere but here."

She broke the embrace and stared into his eyes. "You've got to get me out of here," she pleaded.

"I can't," was all he said, shaking his head.

"There's nothing wrong with me. The medicine's just giving me strange illusions or dreams, you know? If you can't help me, just leave. Just go," Olivia said, her anger building. Elliot's eyes filled with tears and he slowly turned his back and walked out.

She didn't mean to kick him out. She didn't mean to do anything lately, but it was all just happening. It was only one in the afternoon, and there was nothing to do but lay and wait for night to come again.

XXX

"Detective Stabler?"

Elliot was on his way off the floor when Doctor Stevens called out. "She just kicked me out of the room," Elliot sighed, staring at the floor. "I...I don't know how to act around her anymore."

The doctor put a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "You're doing all you can. The young lady just needs plenty of rest and some counseling. She's not a danger anymore, to herself or anyone else. I know it's hard for her to be cooped up in here like an invalid."

Elliot stared at the green and white tiles and said nothing.

"I do have a question for you. Have you two ever been in our basement before?"

"Nope. Not here. We're usually over at General or the clinics or the police labs," Elliot said.

"Then how would she know room 22 is the old hospital morgue? We used it during 9/11, but it's been used for storage ever since."

Elliot looked up quickly.

"This hospital was built in 1935. There are lots of little nooks and crannies even I don't know about, and I've been a resident here since 1969. I think it's a coincidence, but such a strange one," Stevens continued. Elliot just nodded and began to walk away.

"She's in good hands here. Olivia Benson's going to be okay," the doctor shouted, as Elliot retreated down the echoing corridor.

XXX

Night fell.

Olivia watched the late news and clicked the TV off. She was hesitant to fall asleep and dream again.

_Maybe if I don't get the glass of water. Maybe if I don't get up. _

She thought of Elliot and Vermont. They both needed to go, even if it was for just the weekend. Sometimes it seemed all she wanted was him wrapped around her like protective blanket. He brought her to the hospital and now the regret was palpable. It wasn't like she was terribly mad at him, but she wondered what would have happened had the tables turned.

The cool green mountains. Sweet, fresh air. Curtains fluttering in the breeze. A long walk by the water holding his hand. Crickets...

XXX

Tick TICK TICK TICK TICK

She sat bolt upright in bed, sweating. It was 2 am. Over the ticking, Olivia could hear her own breathing. Gasping, actually. She reached for the water glass and stopped.

The sound of rasping shoes came down the hallway. Olivia screwed her eyes shut tight. The ticking echoed in her ears.

_Oh God oh God please let this be a dream again._

She got up as if in a trance. The floor was cold beneath her feet and when she stumbled slightly over the blanket, the cup of water hit the floor.

Olivia was shaking all over.

The noise in the hall ceased and she walked out in time to see the elevator doors whisk closed. It went down to B. When it came back up, Olivia stepped on, carrying the stuffed tiger.

When she stepped off on the bottom floor, something seemed to pull her toward 22 again. _Itsjustadreamitsjustadreamitsjustadream._

But there was that nurse and the room full of the dead. That smile.

"Room for one more, honey."

Olivia couldn't run. All she could do was scream.

XXX

"She had a rough night, but we're prepared to let her go this afternoon," Dr. Stevens told Elliot. "I've scheduled a follow-up appointment for next week, but keep an eye on her."

Elliot nodded and shook the doctor's hand. They walked into the room as Olivia zipped her Adidas bag shut.

"You're free to go. Remember, it's just a dream. Your dreams can't hurt you," Stevens smiled. Olivia scowled slightly. She was sure they weren't dreams.

"Vermont will be a nice break for both of us," Elliot chimed in, noticing her sour face. "Cragen gave us three days off next week."

"That's real generous of him," Olivia said, rolling her eyes. Elliot put an arm around her as they walked out. She'd never been so glad to leave anywhere in her life.

XXX

Her first night at home was a nervous one, but there was no dream. It didn't happen the night after that either.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was getting back on course. Munch and Fin were happy to have her back. Casey was especially happy to have her only ally back in force, and just as interested about the little Vermont vacation.

"Think he's going to, you know, want to get closer to you?" she asked over bagels and coffee.

"I doubt it," was all Olivia said, but she secretly wouldn't mind getting a little closer. They were already friends. In the hospital he seemed to want to be close.

Wednesday dawned clear and cool. Olivia piled her stuff into Elliot's car, which was cluttered with maps and brochures.

"You doing okay?" he asked, eyes full of concern. She just nodded. The thought of Vermont spread in front of her like a clean sheet. She just had to make it through the doctor's appointment and then they'd be off.

Parking places are hard to get in New York City. Good parking places are so very rare that they're cherished and revered like fine wine. Elliot spotted an opening right in front of the medical building.

"G'won in. I'm going to sit here and enjoy this spot," he smiled.

"I won't be long, I promise," Olivia said, shutting the car door.

The building had an ornate lobby. It even had an old fashioned elevator with the clock arm that indicated which floor the lift was on. Olivia walked toward it but was stopped by an awful feeling of deja vu.

Tick TICK TICK TICK TICK

She stood very still. This wasn't a dream. Olivia had stopped so suddenly a man with a bottle of water ran into her. The collision knocked the bottle out of his hand and it spilled all over the floor.

TICK TICK TICK TICK

Olivia squeaked an "I'm sorry", startling at the strained sound of her own voice. Things were unraveling in her brain quickly, like a quilt with exposed threads. She needed to get to Dr. Stevens, pronto.

The floor indicator on the elevator swung down to B. It then rose slowly to 1, and the doors creaked open.

The huge elevator was crowded with the faces she'd seen in the morgue. The face of the nurse smiled out at her.

"Room for one more, honey."

Olivia started screaming. The woman just shrugged slightly and the doors shut. Through tears, Olivia dashed through the lobby, pushing people out of her way.

Elliot was playing with the radio when she jumped into the car.

"Olivia, what the...," he started. He grabbed her, struggling slightly as she squirmed in his grasp. Elliot had only seen her like this once before, the day he took her to the hospital.

"Drive. Drive," she sputtered. He was concerned about her shallow breathing but obediantly put the car in drive. Olivia crumpled to a little ball. She was crying hysterically.

They were ten blocks away when they heard the explosion. A fine layer of dust settled on the windshield.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Apologies to Rod Serling for this one!**


	17. End Of Summer

**Last Night**

The end of a nuclear summer spread out in front of the smudged windows. Red sunlight spilled across the room, across the magazines, the half-filled cups and the dust that swam in the still air.

She was sweating on the sheets. Three hours had passed since he changed them and now the new set were damp to the touch. It was stifling in the enclosed room. Occasionally he'd wipe his brow and sip from a cracked coffee cup full of water.

It was noon when she opened her eyes.

"Where are we?" Olivia asked in a cracked, parched voice. She lifted her head and scanned around the enclosed space.

"We're somewhere safe."

Olivia rubbed her temples and fixed her brown eyes on Elliot. He was unshaven. "I didn't want to go underground," she said sadly.

Elliot ran a hand across his stubbly chin and sighed. She couldn't stop looking at his eyes. Normally they were sharp, like blue icepicks. They weren't kind eyes. They were intense, angry, frightening. So many times she'd seen them narrow on a suspect. And sometimes they'd flash anger at her. It was a sullen hate, terrible in its intensity.

Now they were dull, like the heat had cast cataracts over them. He was tired. "I did something I'm not proud of last night," Elliot mumbled. Olivia craned her neck to observe his body language. The tired recliner sagged under his slumped weight.

"Last night, I - "

She waited for him to finish, but suddenly a bolt shot through her aching head like lightning. The pillow was cool and soft and the urge to sleep overwhelmed Olivia. Before Elliot could grasp her hand, she drifted off.

He settled back into the recliner. It hurt to see her in pain. Force-feeding his partner headache powders wasn't on his list of great things to do. Being stuck in a stifling, dim ex-hospital room wasn't so great either. This guilt would never go away.

_In his mind's eye, it all played out again. The smell of gunfire, mingled with the scent of exhaust fumes from the interstate above. The coppery smell of blood that covered his hands. The way it felt to enter her, warm and silky. Cragen clutching his chest, falling over in the dust. Munch, brooding under the bridge, mopping the blood from Olivia's hair. _

"You didn't leave me any choice," Elliot said out loud. Outside an ice cream cart droned by. The curtains were dusty and heavy.

_She wanted it. You know she wanted it._

Olivia.

She lay there lifeless, her mouth hanging open slightly. There were so many nights they'd climb to the roof of the precinct and talk (and sometimes argue) under the starry sky. Seeing the heavens like that made him believe God was close. Now Elliot wasn't so sure. He'd sinned in the worst way. It was like stealing.

It took all his courage to lay a hand on her forehead, lest she wake up and wonder what happened. He could feel her pulse beating through her temple. It was still bruised and sore from the hit she got. Seeing her look so innocent and fragile brought tears to his eyes. All she wanted was life.

_"I'm getting too old to hold out for the whole love business. If I ever have a kid all that has to be included," she said on the precinct roof. "Now I don't know if it'll ever happen."_

_Elliot chuckled, staring out at the sky. "I think you're being a little hard on yourself. When time comes to have a kid, you'll have a kid," he said._

_"I can't just have one with any schmuck off the street. Everytime my mother looked at me, she saw a failure in her life. Any kid of mine can't and won't be raised that way," she said, involuntarily reaching out for Venus._

_"You wouldn't. I know you too well."_

_Olivia studied Elliot's face. "Me having a baby would have to be a miracle right now, and those things just don't happen anymore," she said, smiling sadly. He almost said something but stopped._

Hours passed. The weight of the room, the night before and what the future would bring brought him down. Maybe it wouldn't work. Or maybe he could just finally say "I love you" and explain that, yes, miracles do take place. They were both miracles, thought dead too many times for anything else to be true.

Olivia stirred. Her groan startled Elliot. Dusk had fallen outside but the room was still awfully stuffy.

"Is there anything to eat in here, Elliot?"

He screwed his eyes shut tight.

"Elliot?"

When he opened them, the colors of the room seemed to sharpen. Elliot knew what he had to do now. Everything fell into focus. They'd both be better off.

"I'll go check if there's anything," he said, getting up. He allowed himself one long look. "You know, I...sometimes I think of that night we talked on the roof, when the stars were out..."

Elliot's voice cracked.

"I'll go check," he said again, and left the room like a ghost, fading into the red sky.

**THE END**


	18. Faithful In My Fashion

_**I cried for madder music and stronger wine.**_

_**But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,**_

_**Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! the night is thine;**_

_**And I am desolate and sick of an old passion**_

_**Yea, hungry for lips of my desire:**_

_**I have been fathful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.**_

_**Ernest Dowson**_

"He'll be fine. Detective Stabler just needs to get cleaned up, have a hot meal, sleep..."

Olivia's eyes went from the doctor to her partner. Elliot was slumped on the exam table and waves of stink practically radiated off of him. He'd been swatting the nurse's hand away like a fly, even when she was trying to stitch up the gash under his eye. The dirt was caked to his face, save for the spot they'd sterilized for the stitches. In her whole life, she couldn't remember seeing anyone as tired or filthy as Elliot was at that moment. The whiteness of the room made him look like a raincloud.

She didn't have much desire to be around him lately. It wasn't anything to pinpoint or put under a microscope. Wispy rumors floated back to her like Halloween ghosts. Elliot slept with her. So what? It's not like Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler were married or dating or..._anything_. Maybe it was just a tiny bit of betrayal that he'd turned to Dani. But where was she now that he was in need? Nowhere. And here was good old Olivia to take up the slack.

They wheeled him out to the car and helped her wedge him into the seat. Elliot was only able to take a few shaky steps before collapsing against the car with a wheeze. Olivia winced, wondering how she'd manage to get him up the stairs of his home.

"Hey, next time, go undercover in a boutique or something. Not at a rendering plant," she quipped, starting the car.

"You're funny," was all he could manage. A wave of compassion swept through Olivia. He was so tired and the mental exhausted. What he'd been through would make anyone catatonic. Four fights, a bruising fall into a dumpster, a car accident. He wore the remnants of blood, meat and garbage like a badge. Olivia rolled down the windows, even though a brisk autumn wind was blowing.

They stopped at the precinct to get his duffle bag. Until she could wash the outfit he had on (and this was wishful thinking), his gym clothes would have to work. Instead of his house, she drove on to her apartment. Elliot never said a word. He just stared out the window at the changing leaves.

Hoisting all 200 pounds of him into an elevator was easier than negotiating the stairs. They walked together, slowly, his head touching hers. One of his strong arms wrapped around her waist and Olivia could feel his fingertips burn into her side. It was unexpectedly dizzying. Maybe it was the smell.

"Elliot. First thing, clothes off. Second thing, shower," she ordered when they crossed her threshold. Elliot nodded slightly and shuffled off toward the bathroom, carrying his bag by one strap. When the sound of the shower came full blast, Olivia went to her pantry to figure out what to feed the poor guy. It was nearly barren, thanks to her aversion to grocery shopping. But thank goodness for that one can of soup she never got around to eating. She also salvaged a piece of wheat bread for toast and a clean mug for some herbal tea. It would all have to do.

The shower had been on for a very long time. There wasn't the usual thumping and splashing that accompanies a shower, either. So, cutting the burner off, she snuck down the hall and tentatively knocked on the door.

"El, you okay in there?"

No answer. Just the droning sound of water hitting plastic. Thinking she might regret this (or enjoy it), Olivia opened the door slowly, enveloping herself in a billowing cloud of steam. He was behind the shower curtain. Steeling herself up for the big revelation, she peeked behind the curtain to see Elliot, fully clothed, dozing under the warm stream of water. When she touched his arm, he wheeled around slowly, eyes still closed.

"Do you need some help?" she asked, hearing her own voice jump an octave. Elliot didn't nod, but he did turn back toward the showerhead. With a sigh, Olivia cut the water off and got him too sit on the edge of the tub. "Maybe a bath would be a better idea now," she said, plugging the drain and dumping half a bottle of mint Philosophy soap into the tub.

It took every ounce of her strength to heave his shirt off. The socks were easy, but his jeans were so soaked they clung to his legs. She fumbled with the fly of his jeans, praying he was wearing boxers or something underneath. Of course, he'd picked that day to go commando, something he was known for doing occasionally.

Olivia was so surprised by what flopped out she fell backwards. Elliot looked up quickly, then looked down. He retreated quickly into the bubble bath. "Sorry," he said, sinking back into the tub.

"No, I wasn't expecting that. My bad," she replied, noticing his cheeks were red and hers felt hot too. The whole thing seemed to wake Elliot up a little. "Do you need some help..."

"Nope. I'm fine," he said, and she practically ran out the door. While it hadn't been an unpleasant sight (wow!) she was totally unprepared for it. Olivia turned her attention back to the soup, tea and toast.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Elliot looked completely different. He was clean and red from the hot water. The muscle shirt and shorts weren't enought to block the chill of October, so she wrapped him in an extra blanket and sat him on the old recliner.

He hunkered over the TV tray and ate ravenously. In ten minutes, the bowl of soup and slice of toast were gone. Elliot sank back into the chair and sipped the tea. Olivia sat on the couch and flipped through the channels, sipping on a cup of instant coffee. Neither said anything, but it was comfortable silence, punctuated by the sounds of applause from a studio audience.

"What time is it?" Elliot asked suddenly, causing her to jump slightly.

"Half-past nine. You should probably go to bed," she yawned.

"Where's that inflatable bed you have?" he said, looking around.

"No, you'll sleep in my bed. I don't think your back could handle the couch or the inflatable. I'll sleep out here. No biggie. And no argument."

He didn't argue. Instead, Elliot got up slowly and shuffled out of the living room. OIivia followed, thinking he might need some help.

Instead, he wandered into the darkened room and immediately fell into the pillows. She thought he was already asleep, but as she was walking out, he called her name softly.

Olivia hesistated, but made her way back to the bed. Elliot lightly pulled her down on the mattress and gave her a full body hug, burying his face in her hair. "Thank you," he said softly. Olivia rested her head on his chest, marvelling at the warmth from his body and calmed by the sound of his steadily beating heart. "And I'm sorry," he whispered.

Elliot's lips settled on her forehead, on her nose and on her lips. It wasn't a passionate kiss but it also wasn't a peck between friends. He smiled and pulled her closer, running his fingers over the small swell of her stomach. Olivia kissed his neck and shoulder and was thinking about other things when she realized Elliot was fast asleep.

"Your welcome," she whispered, before laying her head against his chest and falling off into her own dream world.


	19. A Friend Of Seven Years

_**Beside the door**_

_**She stood whom I had known before.**_

_**I saw the work of seven years **_

_**In graying hair and worried eyes,**_

_**And in a smile:**_

_**"Find in me only what appears.**_

_**And let me rest a while."**_

_**Donald Hall**_

Back a month.

Time seemed to drag slowly those first few days on the job. Everything seemed routine except it really wasn't. Olivia had never dyed her hair before but now the graying tips stood out against her dark auburn strands.

Things were beating out of time with Elliot for a long while. They were like two drumbeats - one fast, one slow. He'd stare at her in the precinct but his eyes had a different look than she'd ever seen. Raw hunger. At first, it made her uncomfortable. It took Olivia some time to realize it gave her a shaky upper hand in their relationship. He seemed to hover close more often and crack his knuckles or rattle his throat.

"Are you nervous about something?" she asked one day, in the car.

"Nah."

She thought about the lush forests of Oregon. The smell of damp evergreen had been so relaxing, but yet...

At night, staring at the clear sky, Olivia would have traded all that fresh air for a choking whiff of exhaust in a New York minute. In the hospital she dreamed of running in the dark forest, not knowing what was chasing her. Elliot was the only person to call for. The man who brought her coffee in the morning. The man who could treat her like hell and not kill the flame that burned in her heart. She'd never surrendered her body and soul to anyone. He was the only person she could imagine giving herself to wholly.

It turns out, Olivia wasn't as ready to go back to work as she thought. Her brain simply shut down one day on a case, one month after entering that courtroom and catching Casey's smile. For a week she simply sat in her apartment. Huang said it was mild post-traumatic stress disorder.

A week of "MASH" reruns and staring out at the rain didn't help her. Olivia felt isolated in her ivory tower over Beach Street, watching the trees bend in the wind. Sometimes Elliot would stop by and bring dinner but he would do most of the eating and the talking. He'd drink beer and inhale the pizza or Chinese food or the Greek salads he'd try to tempt her with.

One night Elliot dozed off on the couch adrift in a sea of take-out cartons. She draped a blanket over him and studied the features of his face. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper. His hair was graying, too. Funny how he was the older of them both but Olivia felt her years now. She sighed and stepped back, heading up to her own bed. The darkness was soothing. She fell asleep huddled in blankets and pillows.

The church bells across the street chimed four. Olivia always slept through them, finding their tolling a comfort. But the mattress felt strange and for a moment she was scared witless over the dark figure sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Liv, did I wake you up?"

She snapped on the light to find Elliot. "El, it's four in the morning," she yawned. Her hair stood up in cowlicks.

"Sorry. I have insomnia. The five hours I slept on your sofa is some sort of recent record for me," he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh."

"I guess I slept knowing that you were here and okay," he said softly. Olivia's heart jumped into her throat. "It's a nervous thing, according to Huang."

He got up. "I'm sorry. I know you're tired. You're not Superwoman like I think you are sometimes."

An awkward wind seemed to blow through the room. Olivia felt a blush creep in and settle on her cheeks. "I'm tired of being Superwoman. I just want to be Olivia Benson. I'm just tired like you are," she frowned.

Elliot sat back down on the bed. Olivia clicked off the light and laid back down.

"I should go," he said, in a voice that was rough and raw-edged. Except Elliot didn't move. She was crying softly, choking back the sobs but not bothering to wipe her tears.

"Don't...," she choked. The bed shifted and soon she felt his warm body pressed to hers. Elliot rested his cheek agains hers and draped an arm around her.

Then he laid a soft kiss on her forehead.

And the church bells rang five, but neither of them counted six.


	20. Chapter 20

_When I get to the bottom  
I go back to the top of the slide  
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride  
And I get to the bottom and I see you again  
Well do you, don't you want me to make you  
Tell me, tell me, tell me..._

The lights came fast on all sides. Olivia knew she was falling but couldn't catch herself on anything. The rush of air hit her first, buffetting her back.

She closed her eyes.

The house looked like a fairy tale cottage. There were Technicolor flowers outside and the soft strains of a familiar song coming through the window. As she approached the front door the curtains began to blow in the breeze.

The door handle was streaked with crimson fingerprints.

_I used to live in New York City...Everything there was dark and dirty..._

Olivia gently pushed on the door and went in. Fear sent every nerve skyrocketing. It all seemed so familiar...the music, the bumping overhead fan.

The bodies were where they always were. Blood was spattered everywhere. The woman was bunched against the couch, arms reaching out in supplication. Every step made the blood squish on the saturated carpet. Olivia's nose filled with its coppery scent. She stumbled over the man, sprawled next to a wing chair. There were other bodies on the lawn.

She opened her eyes

Olivia tasted his blood, that sharp nip to his tongue that didn't make him pull away or cry out. Their breaths came in short bursts. Explosions. And she was straining because soon Elliot would be where she wanted him to be - where she _needed _him to be.

"She's pregnant," he muttered against her wet skin. At first, Olivia didn't hear him over the sound of the shower. "Liv, she's pregnant."

The water turned cold against her skin. Elliot was suddenly too naked and too pale in the candlelight. He turned off the shower and handed her a towel, his head hanging in shame.

They sat on the side of the tub. The sound of the TV filtered from the living room, chattering about civilian casualities and parole hearings. Everything that filled their lives was on that TV, but they were in the womb of the shower, protected by the clouds of steam and the fear.

"What did we become?" she asked, looking at her shriveled hands.

Olivia closed her eyes.

There's a place in France where pieces of a plane still litter the forest floor. Pieces of seats, carpet fabric and occasionally bone is uncovered by the winter winds. In the forest, 1977 is still alive. The people that died in 1977 are still alive.

When the plane scraped the treetops, Olivia was eleven. She couldn't fathom the fragility of life. All the headlines blamed a cargo door.

She was reading an article about it for her current events report when the front door opened and shut. Mom was home. The house was clean and the dishes were done and there was nothing to get beaten about.

The sounds of Sabrina's heels clicked up the stairs. A figure darkened her bedroom door. With it came the scent of cgarettes and alcohol. "Why aren't you in bed?" Sabrina slurred, reeling slightly.

"I'm finishing up my homework. I'll be done soon, I promise," Olivia said, managing a weak smile. She hated her mother. Hated the smells and the fists. Sabrina tottered over to the desk and read the headline through bloodshot eyes.

"Cargo door. Seems more like wrong place, wrong time. Poor bastards," she mumbled, stumbling out of the room.

Olivia shivered, sqeezing her eyes shut tight. There was always the wrong place and the wrong time. The nights her mother would make love and her moans and screams could be heard throughout the house. The time she slapped three of Olivia's baby teeth right out of her mouth. Wrong time. The plane screamed to a stop, ending whatever thoughts the passengers were having.

Olivia opened her eyes.

"Name's Stabler."

"Olivia Benson."

She studied him for a moment. Tall, muscles, square jaw. But it was those damn blue eyes that hit her in the gut. When their eyes met, a little bolt of electricity passed between them. That had never happened to her before. It scared her a little, because he flinched, too.

Never mind the wedding ring. For years she listened to his stories about kids and Kathy. Olivia would go to their birthday parties and Christmas dinners. Elliot talked to her differently than he did Kathy. She noticed this more in the later days of their partnership.

Once upon a time, they'd been happy. Once upon a time, Olivia would have killed for him. Now he was fading away...

Huang gave her little orange pills that were supposed to take the edge off. She wouldn't take them, knowing that addictive behavior ran in the family. They sat on her dresser, taunting in the light that streamed in through her windows.

_You felt it, too, she wanted to scream at him. _

The house looked like a fairy tale cottage. They lived there and she tended the flowers and Elliot tended the barbeque on weekends. The floor was so saturated with blood it squelched beneath her bare toes...

Olivia closed her eyes, feeling its sticky warmness...

"Liv," he whispered, shaking her arm. "You've been asleep for twelve hours."

Olivia yawned and her back cracked painfully. She was in the crib, huddled on one of the bunks. Elliot was crouched beside her. "So the dead come alive," he said, voice cracking.

He was unshaven and melancholy. "Cragen's sending us out to Alpine to stake out that electronics store."

"OK," Olivia said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. She watched Elliot leave the dark room, like a blackbird flying in the night.

She stepped out of the bunk and stared into the darkness.

She tasted blood.


End file.
